


Changes

by scarecrow_horses



Series: Changes [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-23 08:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 223,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2540474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarecrow_horses/pseuds/scarecrow_horses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU of 'Buffy' and 'Angel', starting at about season four.   With a couple original characters and a *lot* of sex.  :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the first long fics I ever wrote. In fact, one *of* the first fics I ever wrote. Originally posted beginning in early 2004 (or possibly 2003).... Herein lies so very many fanfic tropes, and cliches, and wish-fulfillment fix-its.... There are some moments in this fic that make me hang my head in shame, but then, some moments that I am still very, very proud of. 
> 
> And it seems to be remembered fondly, so.... :) Be warned - I wasn't and am not a huge Willow fan, so while I don't bash her, she's not super-loveable at all times, either. As new pairings arise, they'll be added to the 'pairings' tags. There are a lot of songs and poems quoted in 'Changes' - they'll all be identified in end notes after each chapter.
> 
> There are sixty-five chapters in all, in two parts. You can download a zip file of both parts here: [Something Rich and Strange](http://scarecrowhorses.com/docs/Changesptone.zip). [Hold Fast](http://scarecrowhorses.com/docs/changes2.zip). 1528k in total.

Something Rich and Strange

 

Xander knew exactly when it happened - when he first tasted desolation, and realized that the world was never, ever going to be the same. It was the night Jesse died. Not even a week into their friendship with Buffy and someone was already dead. Crying silently in bed that night, with the taste of ashes in his mouth and the deconstruction of his best friend's face reeling and unreeling in his head. A scene worthy of a multi-million dollar summer blockbuster and all his, to cherish forever. He remembered lying there and hating everyone. But mostly hating Buffy, for making it all real - for embodying the worst moment of his life. He hadn't thought he'd be able to face her the next day at school without wanting to slap her. He armoured his heart in ice, that night - ice to keep the sullen rage from blasting everyone around him, and ice to keep the burning pain of loss from consuming him.

But after a few days he knew that Buffy hadn't actually caused any of it - her presence had just made it all real. They'd all lost friends over the years - they'd all averted their eyes from milk cartons and leaflets tacked to telephone poles, so they wouldn't have to really _see_ …. And now he _was_ seeing; and now, he realized, he could do something about it. 

So he did. 

Following along behind, doing his best to not get vamped or killed, doing his best to _do something_ , to help. To make that taste of ash go away, and to make the picture-screen in his head go dark, so he didn't have to watch the special effects festival that spooled out in his sleep night after night.

The thing with the hyenas actually kind of helped. It was a little easier, after that, to feel that he was part of something. To have that _belonging_ feeling. As if he'd gotten into a tight little nest and every time he moved or turned he could feel them, like a den, and he was safe in the middle. Once the spell was broken, the dark, hungry thoughts of the hyena persisted. When he brought an axe down on the neck of the monster-of -the-week, part of him howled in triumph and pushed aside the thought that these things - these demons - perhaps had packs of their own...Jesse's of their own. He had _his_ pack, and all else was _not-pack_ , and it was good.

It was even better when it was him * _Me, I did that!_ * who brought Buffy back to life to fight the Master. That it was himself, the Xan-man, guy in the middle, who had shamed a centuries-old demon into helping. He'd told Angel that night that he'd needed proof - proof that Angel was a person and not a monster. He wasn't sure he'd gotten that proof - he still didn't trust Angel - but at least Angel had come; at least he'd been there, because of him. 

Things had changed more, though, after Spike had come to town. It sure hadn't helped Xander's trust issues with Angel when the older vampire had offered him up like a snack to his - not friend, no - to Spike. Things were just not right when you almost felt you could trust the psychopathic vampire over the souled one. Spike and his Drusilla managed to almost kill Angel. Luckily Kendra was there - poor, dead Kendra, another Hellmouth casualty, another piece of armour on the heart. And then there was that thing with the Judge. But by that time, Angel was Angelus, and Angelus had kind of screwed the whole 'Judge' thing up in that gloating, overconfident way the demon had. Xander remembered being angry at Buffy again when she just couldn't seem to kill Angelus - when Ms. Calendar being murdered and the end of the world coming didn't seem to make a dent in her self-pity. He'd agonized over telling her about Willow and the spell she was doing - but in the end, he hadn't. Angelus had to die - even Spike - _Spike!_ \- wanted him dead, so who was he - middle-guy, tagging-along guy - to thwart that?

But that feeling, the feeling that all was not right had come over him again, and again it was because of Spike. Supporting a half-fainting Giles, desperate to get away from the mansion, Xander had watched as Spike had tenderly lain Drusilla in the seat of that battered DeSoto. Watched Spike brush her hair back and arrange her dress, watched his fingers linger on her cheek. And then he'd driven away into the sunlight, and Xander had gotten Giles to the hospital. Lying in bed that night he'd remembered what Buffy had said - that Spike had made a deal: all, everything, Angelus, this _place_... all for Drusilla. The books and Giles said vampires didn't love - they were sharks, out for the blood, for the kill, and nothing else. But that hadn't been what Xander had seen, and now sometimes even the hyena didn't seem so triumphant when another vampire - another demon - fell at the Slayer's feet. He didn't love them - he didn't want to be friends with them, or let them roam his city unchallenged. But he wondered if the black-and-white version of the world that the Council and even Buffy and Giles seemed to embrace was really the best way. The soldier - who lingered long after that Halloween, just like the hyena - seemed to think he was crazy. There was the Enemy, and there were Friendlies, and that was that. Xander tried to persuade him that some enemies might _be_ friendlies, but the soldier sided with the hyena on this one, and Xander grimly ignored his own confusion, knowing hesitation could kill him, one day.

It got more muddled when Spike came back, snatching Xander and Willow away, ranting drunkenly about Drusilla. She'd left him and he wanted her back. Love spell... and wasn't _that_ just too hysterically familiar. As Willow looked through the box of supplies, Spike had leaned unsteadily against the musty bed, broken bottle clutched loosely in one hand, the other going out to twine in Xander's hair.

"My Dru... she's got dark hair too, did'ja know? Just like this...dark eyes..." Xander had stared up at the vampire, his heart pounding, his breath coming in frightened pants, and seen devastation in wide blue eyes - devastation and fear and a frantic need. Xander understood those things - understood what drove the vampire to such an extreme even as he plotted how to knock him down, get Willow away. The long fingers petting through his hair had been... gentle. Then Spike was gone, to get more components for the spell, and never came back. In the insanity that followed - Cordelia lying bloody and dazed in the rubble, Oz looking so hurt - he'd not thought about the vampire at all. But the look came back to him, in the night, and the fingers, so gentle in his hair. More fodder for the night-time horror-show...only he wasn't horrified. In fact, he found himself thinking about the blonde vampire a lot. It was - confusing.

Xander was glad when school was over - their final year had held so much pain, and so much anger, and so much despair. The new Slayer showing that she could be as evil as the demons she fought. Angel coming back and all, seemingly, forgiven. Even a Watcher who somehow had given in to the 'dark side'. And seeing childhood friends on the front lines of the final battle with the Mayor. Knowing he'd put them there, and seen them die, only added to the armour on his heart. The soldier, whispering about honor and duty and acceptable losses, only made him sick and angry. Xander hoped that a few months away would help him put things into perspective. And they had, only in ways he'd never imagined.

And now he was back again, in Sunnydale, trying to slot the new shape of his life into the old space, and it just wasn't a fit anymore - he just couldn't do it. He was _trying_ , trying so hard…. But the looks he got, from Willow and Buffy, when he couldn't contribute to their college talk. And Giles' little sighs when he made some joking remark, trying to be that same old Xan-man. Even Anya, pushing and pushing at him for something...and a few months ago he would have jumped at that, been Xander-and-Anya and told himself he was happy. But he couldn't, not after Oxnard, and it made the former demon confused, unhappy and angry, and it made Xander just want to hit something.

Lying on Giles' couch, wracked with chills from the Chumash-inflicted illnesses, he'd thought his life couldn't get any more surreal. Until Spike - * _Spike, for god's sake!_ * - was at the door, babbling something about needing help, being...broken? Looking different - thinner, and ragged around the edges. He barely rose to Buffy's taunts, didn't even fight back when she decked him, and Xander finally understood that he _couldn't_ , and something in him raised a cheer even as something else cringed in disgust and horror at the thought of a secret military base and white-coated scientists cutting open the vampire's _head_ for fuck's sake and sticking some sort of silicon chip in there. That was so - 1984, or something - and it gave Xander the creeps. What if they thought _Buffy_ was a threat? She could as easily kill a human as a demon - what if this military group decided they were _all_ a threat? Would they stoop to doing experimental surgery on _humans_? 

When the fight with the Indian spirits was over, and the fever was finally gone, Xander helped Giles get the Chumash arrows out of Spike, wincing inwardly as they pulled them free from pale, pale flesh. Spike didn't act like it hurt too much - he just bitched on and on about being tied up, being left in harm's way - but Xander saw the little lines of pain around his eyes and felt... something. Something he shouldn't feel. He squashed it viciously and concentrated on the food Buffy'd made, and tried not to care that Spike looked like a fallen angel, bloody and disheveled, bound to Giles' chair and looking at them all with eyes dark with pain and hate.

Not long after that, Spike was sent to live with him and then, well...things had just gotten... weirder. And Xander finally admitted to himself that he was falling for William the Bloody.

 

 

Chapter 1: Hunted

 

"C'mon, Spike, you gotta help me out here." Xander heaved at the mostly-unconscious vampire he was struggling to lift out of his truck. Spike mumbled something and made vague swimming motions with his arms. His legs didn't even twitch, and Xander took a breath and bent his knees a little and just _hauled_ , getting the shorter man up over his shoulder and * _thank you, God_ * for construction that had put some muscle on him. He staggered up his walk and then bent down, propping Spike against the wall as he fumbled his key into the lock and got the door open. Good thing Spike had been over a couple times since Xander'd moved to his new house, getting blood and stealing food. Xander wasn't sure if the invite thing worked on a vampire that was mostly out of it.

Spike managed to keep his knees from bending and Xander half-dragged him into the front room and let him go with a sigh of relief onto the couch. Spike sprawled there, one leg and one arm dangling over the edge, the other arm caught at a funny angle against the cushions. Xander stretched his back a little and then went back to the door and locked it. He shut the curtains over both windows and debated the likelihood of getting the duster off Spike without actually getting him up again. In the end he just knelt down and removed Spike's boots, and then straightened him out on the couch, laying his arms comfortably across his stomach, getting a pillow under his head. He pulled his Made-in-Mexico Navajo blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over the vampire.

* _Do vampires get sick in their sleep when they're this drunk?_ * Xander eyed the motionless form for a moment then gently turned Spike's head just a little on the pillow, just in case. * _Wouldn't do to have him choke...guess he wouldn't, though...doesn't breathe, duh_ * Xander just stood there, watching him for a long moment. Looking at his face, which for once had no expression of malice or anger or hate on it - it was just...peaceful. Beautiful. * _Stop that. Need to - oh yeah, need to go wash up, vampire blood on the hands, not of the good_.* 

Xander shook his head and went to his kitchen - looked down at himself and decided that a shower would be better and detoured around the kitchen table to the bedroom, stripping as he went, kicking his shoes off towards the bed. He tossed his clothes at the laundry basket * _Two points! Well, almost._ * and flicked on the bathroom light. One of the best things about this house was that the rooms were all the same size, so that meant the bathroom was as big as the bedroom. Xander liked that; cramped bathrooms sucked and here he had a shower as well as the original cast-iron claw foot tub. Plus, a washer and dryer, which he'd gotten second-hand just this week. And thank God for that. The laundromat was kinda - creepy. 

He opted for a shower tonight, too tired to mess around with a bath. As he stood under the spray, lazily soaping his belly, images from the night flashed through his mind. Spike - bleeding and desperate, giving Giles his money back, his face so full of anger and hatred that Xander had actually been afraid of him. The long sweep of his naked back, smeared with blood, the muscles jumping and twitching every time Giles dug a little deeper for the tracer. His eyes, fathomless and dark as lapis, staring at Xander - no anger, for a moment, just pain and…. * _He looked so tired, tonight. Frayed around the edges. He must have been...terrified. Those soldiers… ._ * 

Xander cursed a little under his breath at the thought of the Initiative soldiers. Bad enough they were running around Sunnyhell, putting everyone in danger - stirring up the demons and the vampires and making every patrol a game of Russian Roulette. Would they interfere? Would they hurt one of the Scoobies? Tonight, though - they'd gone too far. Tried to murder Buffy. And even though he was feeling less and less of a Scooby, Xander still felt like punching someone * _punch Riley_ * for that. For casually wanting to take a life because it interfered in their ultra-secret plots to do... who knows what. And Spike - tagging him like he was a damn animal, hunting him down. Who knows what they would have done to him if they'd caught him again? And what would they have done to Giles, the girls, _himself_ , finding them 'consorting' with Hostile 17? Xander shook his head, taking deep breaths, trying to get the anger out. No point in being so pissed that all he wanted to do was smash things. He had to _think_. So...think. Think about... * _Spike. **No**. Well, ok. Why not? I've **been** thinking about him. Been thinking about him since...since forever. Since Angel almost got me bitten, since I watched him being so tender with Drusilla, since I saw him drunk and heartbroken, trying to get Drusilla back. Since I heard him crying. Since he tried to kill himself and I...kissed him. And he kissed me back._ * That memory was the strongest - the best - and Xander leaned against the shower wall and closed his eyes, remembering…. 

 

 

There'd been an earthquake - not Xander's first, but the first that did real damage. He'd come downstairs to find busted pipes and water everywhere, and Spike as pissed off as a wet cat, ranting. He'd told him to try and fix the pipes - to earn his blood, for God's sake, and gone out to work. Coming back home, his dad had yelled at him from the living room and he'd gone in to see what was up. His dad had looked up at him from the couch, bleary-eyed and pissed off, and growled out something about what the fuck was he thinking, loaning money to a foreign faggot, and he'd better get the damn pipes fixed _fast_. Xander had felt a little sick, staring back at his dad, wondering what the hell had prompted him to go downstairs, and what had Spike said to him, and _damnit_ , did he do something to Spike? 

Xander went down the stairs slowly, bending to look under the rail, braced for the worst. The basement was wetter than before * _guess Spike didn't have a go at those pipes, after all_ * and the vampire was standing over against the far wall. Xander thought everything was ok for a minute until he realized there was blood on the wall, and that Spike had battered the paneling and the concrete behind it with his fists until he'd gouged chunks out. Spike stood with his fists and forehead against the wall, blood streaking down the backs of his hands and wrists, shaking, wearing.... * _why in hell is he wearing my clothes?_ * Xander came down another stair, licking his lips, wondering what he was going to say. Then Spike started talking. Xander didn't know if Spike knew he was there or not. He sounded furious and terrified at the same time - his voice was shaking and he talked too fast, but there was the groaning rumble of a growl in there, too. 

"Bloody fuckin' miserable old piss-pot of a fuckin' drunken _bastard_ , I didn't even try to hurt him, just pushed him back, just got him out of my fuckin' _face_ , the bastard, _fuck_ ... can't stand this, can't do this, miserable human _mongrel_ telling me… _touching_ me, break his soddin' head open, skin him alive, I will...get this thing out of my head, _out of me_ , fuckin' soldier bastards, won't see me comin' next time, end of them, end of _all_ of them..." Spike reared back and bashed the wall again, bits of paneling and concrete flying off, the blood on his wrists trailing up his arms. Xander bit his lip and wondered if he should leave or go on down, thinking back to the night he'd done vampire-sitting duty. Xander had let him have his dignity - pretended he hadn't heard the broken voice, whispering and desperate. But then Spike turned around and saw him. Instantly his face changed, and he roared and leapt across the room, so fast Xander barely saw him coming. He was on Xander in an instant, baleful yellow eyes boring into Xander's startled brown ones, fists coming to snatch his shirt and shake him, slam him back into the stairs. 

Then Spike was gone, crouched in a ball at the foot of the stairs, holding his head and moaning in agony, blood smearing back through his hair, his eyes tight shut and the demon gone. 

"Damnit, Spike." Xander walked down to him, shaking off his fear, angry with his father for coming down here and messing with Spike, angry at Spike for hurting himself. He didn't notice, until he was standing over the hunched form, that one of his stakes from patrol was fastened to the coffee table. Then anger exploded in him, and he reached down and dragged Spike to his feet. 

"What the _hell_ is that? What are you - what were you going to do? Huh?" 

"Leave me alone, Harris. Fuck off." Spike twisted out of his grip and staggered back a step, one hand still to his head, eyes narrowed in pain and rage. 

"No, I won't, what the hell were you thinking? Seriously, were you going to - to _kill_ \- " 

"Fuck off, Harris! You gonna tell me now that you care? Eh? You don't give a tinker's damn what I fuckin' do, _you_ don't care if I live or die so _sod. Off._ " Spike threw himself down onto the couch, head in hands, and Xander just stood there, staring at him for a minute. 

"Ok - first, you're wrong. I _do_ care if you live or die. You can believe that or not, whatever you like. Secondly - what the fuck did you say to my dad? He thinks that you're gay and that you owe me money, and I _know_ he didn't think _that_ up on his own. And thirdly - why the _fuck_ are you wearing my clothes? You look like some kind of demented cabana boy." 

Spike glared up at him, blood streaked over his cheek now, and Xander couldn't help it, he started laughing. Spike _did_ look funny - the knee-length khakis and the Hawaiian-style shirt, both of which were a couple of sizes too big - were ridiculous and made him look about 16. Spike looked down at himself -rubbed a hand over his face and snorted in exasperation. 

"Not my damn fault. Your soddin' drying machine ruined my clothes, didn't think you'd want me loungin' around down here starkers - that'd give your dad a real shock, eh?" 

"Jesus, Spike - how'd the dryer ruin your clothes? It's not rocket science." 

"No, mebbe' it ain't, but it's not like I did my own laundry ever, is it? Back when, that's what servants were for, and then there was always minions and the like, or just get new if the old was too bloody...bloody to wear. Fuckin' thing…." Spike sighed and looked at his hands, then started licking the blood off, looking more like a cat then ever. Xander started to say something, then stopped himself. After all, when he'd impaled his finger on a bent industrial-size staple the other day, the first thing _he'd_ done was put his bloody finger in his mouth. 

"As for your soddin' wanker of a soddin' _father_ , I dunno why he came down here but he was yellin' at me and wantin' to know who I was. Didn't think you'd be too happy if I told him I was the fuckin' _vampire_ you were keepin', so I told him I owed you some money and was gonna wait for you to come home." Spike glanced up at Xander and away, and Xander wondered if his dad had hit him. It wouldn't exactly be a surprise. 

Xander sighed. "Well, come on, you can't wear _that_ out, you've got blood on that shirt now. Let's get a different one _and_ you've got to rinse your hair out, it's got blood in it, too. And Spike?" Spike looked at him, his mouth open, his tongue going out to lap at an oozing knuckle. "Next time you decide to hit something, hit the couch or something, because _that_ wall is a load-bearing wall and I really don't want to have to dig you out of the rubble, ok?" 

Spike just looked at him - rose to his feet suddenly and advanced on Xander, his hand still to his mouth, his tongue-tip just touching his top lip, poking at a smear of blood there. "You said you care if I live or die. _Why_ do you care, Harris?" 

He was so close - inches away, really - and Xander suddenly felt all the blood rush to his face, and his groin. He didn't think that was possible, but there it was, painfully blushing and painfully aroused in 3.2 seconds. * _And the crowd goes wild!_ * "Umm. I…" 

"You...what?" Spike's eyes really were an amazing shade of blue, and Xander chased several color-names around and around his head, wondering which was the most accurate. Sky? Azure? Baby? No, not baby... Spike was saying something. 

"What?" 

"I said, what's goin' on in that soddin' lump of fluff you call a brain." 

Xander snapped his mouth shut and glared at the vampire. The tantalizingly close vampire. The vampire who smelt subtly of smoke and leather and * _what is that? Not aftershave...just him…_ * "Why I care is none of your business. I - it's a long story and - it doesn't matter anyway, just - oh, fuck it." Xander reached out, grabbed Spike's head, and kissed him. As his tongue stroked inside the vampire's cool mouth, the soldier screamed at him. 

* _What the fuck! This is Spike! This is a vampire! Are you **insane**?_ * But the other voice in his brain - the Xander voice - said: * _Mmmm... tastes good. Spicy. Like cloves and cream and ... oh ... blood, too, mmmm_ * Neither voice was particularly helpful, but they both shut up when Spike started kissing him back. The kiss seemed to last forever, and Xander gasped when Spike pulled away, the some-color-blue eyes wide and shocked. 

"Right. Ok. Listen, Spike, I don't want to hear a word out of you . Not one word. I'll explain all this later, I really, really will, but I stopped by Giles' house on the way over here and there is, apparently and ' Oh dear', some sort of apocalypse happening and we need to go." * _Fuck, I just kissed him, I just **kissed** him, oh my **God** …._* 

Spike blinked at him - looked down at his mostly-clean hands - looked back up. "Apocalypse? Again?"  


"Yeah."  


"You're just sayin' that to make me feel better." 

 

 

Xander gasped in a breath of steam and shampoo-smell, his hand slick and tight around his erection. * _Oh, yeah, why the fuck not...he tasted like...cream and cloves and...oh…_ * Xander arched against the wall, his orgasm silent, ferocious. He panted there in the spray for a moment, then finished his shower and got out. He dried off and slipped into the robe that he kept on the hook on the back of the bathroom door. Combing his hair, looking at himself in the mirror, he raised a sardonic eyebrow at him reflection. 

* _Buffy'd tear you a new one, after all your crap over Angel. Wait. Are you planning on telling Buffy?_ * The soldier's voice, sharp and stern. Xander blinked at himself, and finally shook his head. 

* _No. About the whole guy-thing, maybe. I'll have to talk about Oxnard eventually, and I'm not ashamed of that. But about Spike...no. It was just one kiss. And even if he **did** kiss me back...it doesn't mean anything. And thank God the whole 'I can hit demons' thing distracted him so he didn't ask me about **why** I kissed him. He still talks about Drusilla - still loves her, probably. No point in...losing ... Well fuck._ * 

Xander shook his head, reaching for his toothbrush. * _Too damn late. Already lost my heart. Already gave it right to him. Fuck, I've only been thinking about him - dreaming about him - for two years. Even when I had no clue why I was. Even when I kept my heart as cold and hard as I could, he was still **in** there. That night…_ * 

Xander brushed his teeth, lost to memory again, unaware that Spike was standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Xander saw only himself in the mirror, and the movie that played out in his inner eye; a night at Giles' house, and the first crack in the armour that had gotten him to this - to love. 

 

 

Giles had decided Spike 'couldn't be trusted on his own', something that made Xander shake his head in exasperated amusement, as if Spike were five and not allowed to be in the kitchen by himself. Xander still couldn't get his head around the _why_ \- why had Spike come to _them_? To the people he'd tried to kill, who'd tried to kill him? To the Slayer, for God's sake. Did he have the biggest fuckin' balls on the planet, or was he just insane? Had the military chip made him crazy as well as biteless? Xander was still creeped out over the whole 'mad-scientist' thing, and he'd liked it even less when Riley started hanging around. Something about the soldier made Xander's hackles - the _hyena's_ hackles - rise, and the soldier, who came out more now that there was another soldier to stir him up, made Xander want to snap at Riley. Tell him to straighten up, fix his collar, shine his shoes. It was hysterically funny and totally horrible all at the same time, and Xander found himself taking his nerves out on Spike, as the most defenseless member of their weird little group. 

* _Only not that defenseless, is he. He's gotten some damn nasty digs in at you - at all of us._ * 

Over at Giles' house that night on 'vamp-sitting' duty, listening to Spike yell and curse from the bathroom, shouting that he was hungry, that he was bored. Xander had been irritated at once again being told, basically, to 'run along', and had, one more time, taken it out on Spike. He'd delayed getting Spike's blood to him - delayed, and gotten involved with a show on the TV - and when he finally realized how late it was, he'd gotten up and hastily gotten the blood, feeling a little guilty for forgetting Spike. He'd walked quietly along the hallway, mug in hand, hearing something strange coming from Giles' bathroom. As he reached the door, he'd realized Spike was crying - not _just_ crying, but gasping in great, wrenching sobs, muttering to himself between hitching, painful, _unneeded_ breaths. 

"Bloody bastards...don't care if I starve...can't do this, can't _do_ this...oh _fuck_ let me out, let me out, letme _out_...gotta be...gotta s-stay calm...can't let - can't let'm see... " 

There was a rattle of metal on porcelain, and Xander imagined Spike was wrenching on the chains. He bit his lip, hesitating - knowing how awful it must be to be imprisoned in there. Like being back at the Initiative, alone and hungry…. He put his hand out to open the door and then realized it would be even _more_ awful to be seen like that - that Spike would hate him even more if he walked in and saw him crying, saw the desperation. Xander knew how much _he_ would hate that. And a memory came to him, unbidden, of Spike gently touching Drusilla's hair, smiling softly down at her, settling her into the front seat of the DeSoto and driving away from Angelus, from his third Slayer, from everything. For love. For his girl. 

And now he was chained up like a dog, and Xander was not - was _not_ \- going to take away his last scrap of dignity. At that moment he realized he just might not be part of the 'Scooby gang' for very much longer, and he stood there, stunned, thinking about it as Spike continued to mumble to himself, voice thick with tears. Xander felt - physically felt, like a needle-stick - the ice around his heart crack. He imagined it; silvery-white and hard, crazing out from the little dart that was Spike's low, exhausted voice babbling words like a child trying to psych himself up. 

"Just don't think about it, right, just don't...they didn't - didn't forget, aren't...aren't gonna leave me here… _fuck_ , I gotta get out of here...what'm I gonna do, what to do, can't fight, can't kill...just _stop that_ , you fucking wanker, you're William the Bloody, you can do this...been through worse...been through worse..." 

His voice trailed off into a strange keening sound, and Xander slipped away, back to the kitchen, still musing over his sudden revelation. He really _didn't_ think he could do this anymore - blindly kill what was out there, when what was out there loved and laughed and cried and was _afraid_ , damnit. Buffy was the Slayer, and he understood that meant killing things, saving the world. But lately it was her automatic response to _everything_ , and he was getting so tired of it. He was tired of pushing Anya off him with excuses and lame jokes; he was tired of not measuring up to expectations, and of being left behind. Tired of it all. He didn't want Sunnydale overrun with monsters, but he didn't want to be the one deciding which ones would live or die anymore, either. Especially since they mostly died. And he was tired of hiding himself, and tired of being a liability instead of a help. He got out a second mug, and poured more blood into it from the waxed carton that came from the butchers. He heated the second mug up and slammed the microwave door - shouted down the hall. 

"Hey, Spike, soup's on! You still hungry in there or not? " He slammed around in the cabinets, getting a straw, making noise and taking his time, hoping Spike could pull himself together enough by the time he got there so that he could pretend nothing was wrong. He walked down the hall and bumped the bathroom door open. It was dark in there, and Xander poked around for the light switch with his elbow. 

"Close your eyes, I'm gonna turn on the light," Xander said, finding the switch. The lights flickered on, and Xander looked at Spike, who was lying with his head back on the edge of the tub, eyes shut. His wrists looked raw and red under the chains, and his face was raw-looking, too, as if he'd scrubbed at it. Xander noticed crescent-shaped cuts along his forearms where he'd dug his nails in. 

"Come on and eat, now, b'fore it gets cold," Xander said, sitting on the edge of the tub and holding the first mug out, straw bent. He noticed his hand was shaking a little, and decided to ignore it. Maybe it would go away. 

Spike lifted his head and opened his eyes, looking at his hands, the straw, anything but Xander. He leaned forward and drank, fast, as if afraid Xander would snatch the mug away. When the blood was gone, Xander put the empty mug on the floor and transferred the straw to the other one. 

"Sorry it's so late - I got kinda - distracted." 

"Oh, sure, no problem, I'm only locked up here _starvin'_ , no worries, you tosser." Spike glared at him, drinking, and Xander glared back, glad that Spike was himself a little more. A Little Bad, if not the Big Bad. 

"Oh shut up. It's not like this is some big funfest for me - I actually have a life, you know. Don't exactly enjoy sitting in Giles' house watching over you." 

"Can't have much of a life if you can be spared to sit _here_ , eh? What, they didn't want you taggin' along, gettin' in the way? Got sent off with a pat on the head and a lolly?" Malice sparked in Spike's eyes, and Xander felt his own anger rising, but he pushed it back. They stared at each other for a long moment, until Xander heard the door opening, and Giles and Buffy coming in. He rose and picked up the first mug, and backed out of the bathroom, leaving the light on. It was only a week later that Giles told him Spike was going to have to stay with him. 

 

 

Xander spat into the sink, rinsing his brush, using his hand to scoop water and rinse his mouth. Then the earthquake, and that _kiss_ , dear God, and now, tonight.... Spike on his couch, Spike looking like Lucifer himself - light-bringer, tempter - so beautiful and so _vulnerable…_. 

* _Maybe it's just 'cause he's - hurt. Maybe that's all it is. He'll get better, he'll be back to himself and I won't... ._ * Xander wiped his face on his towel and turned around and let out a small shriek as he caught sight of Spike, leaning there in the doorway. His eyes were dark, squinted a little against the light, staring at him. 

"What'm I doin' on yer bloody...couch." he mumbled, and Xander shook his head, catching his breath. 

"Christ, you scared me. You're on my couch 'cause you were mostly passed out, and after tonight, we didn't think it would be safe for you to go back to your crypt. The Initiative might find you there and you wouldn't - you could get caught again." 

Spike just stared at him, swaying a little, his duster half-off the wounded shoulder, his hands clenched tight into fists. Xander met that furious, unblinking gaze and watched in amazement as the anger faded, and something else came up in them - puzzlement, and maybe... maybe gladness. 

* _Oh, right. You'll be able to shake this off **no** problem. Keep tellin' yourself that, Harris._ * Xander snorted at that particular inner voice. If even the _soldier_ could see how lost he was, it was hopeless. He was...hooked. Xander walked towards the door, wondering if Spike would let him pass or not. 

"C'mon Spike, I've got blood here, come and have a pint or two and lay back down, you'll feel better. Gonna have a hell of a headache when you wake up. Unless - do vampire's _get_ headaches? I mean, does - " 

"Shut up, Harris," Spike whispered, and Xander froze, barely a foot between them, the smell of smoke and whiskey and _Spike_ around him like a fog, comforting somehow, and arousing.... He wanted to put his face into the space between Spike's shoulder and neck and just breathe. The hyena approved of that, a subdued grumble of pleasure somewhere in the back of his mind. Spike reached out and pushed a lock of hair off Xander's face - tucked it behind his ear, and Xander thought of Drusilla, and how careful Spike's fingers were being; that they were trembling, and that Xander was. 

"You… _you_ thought it wasn't safe for me, at the crypt." 

"We - we all d-did, I mean... " 

"Lie. You're _lying_ , pet. It was just you. The bloody Watcher and the Slayer don't give a toss about me, we both know that. And the witch'll do whatever she's told, she don't have any backbone. It was just you." Spike's gaze was tracking over Xander's face - caressing him with insubstantial, smoldering blue touches. His fingers were still in Xander's hair, trembling there, unmoving, his other hand still fisted at his side. He tipped his head a little, and Xander shivered, wondering what Spike was going to do, wondering if _he_ dared take another kiss. 

Spike took a deep breath in, scenting the air, and Xander knew, _knew_ his arousal was evident. Spike had told him, a couple weeks ago, how much he could tell from scent alone, and Xander had considered bathing in cologne after that. 

"Sweet as honey from the rock," Spike murmured, and Xander swayed a little towards him, wanting…. 

* _Oh, want_ * 

Then Spike was turning, a swirl of black and white, walking erratically into the kitchen. Xander heard him flop down into a chair and he leaned in the doorway for a minute, shaking all over. * _Oh god, oh **fuck** , pull yourself together, c'mon, deep breaths...oh, his voice ... _* Xander scrubbed his hands back through his hair and followed the vampire into the kitchen. Spike was sprawled in a chair, face down on the table, his arms folded over his head. Xander hesitated for a minute, then crossed to the counter and turned his boom box on, fiddling with the tuner until he got an 'alternative' station, keeping the volume low. He got a bag of blood from the 'fridge and put it in the microwave to heat. * _A negative. Isn't that rare? I wonder if it tastes..._ * The DJ chatter stopped and music started to play, and when the first line of the song came growling out, Xander felt himself smile. 

_"Here comes Johnny Yen again... With the liquor and the drugs…_  
_And the flesh machine... He's gonna do another striptease... "_

"Hey, I remember this - from that movie we watched. You remember, Spike?" Xander carefully cut the corner off the warm bag and poured the blood into an extra-big coffee cup. Remembering the Basement of Doom and movie night. He'd rented _Trainspotting_ and had actually seen Spike laugh, a full-on laugh of pure fun. At him, of course, because Xander had had to pause the movie again and again and have Spike translate for him. The thick Scottish accents and unfamiliar slang had been confusing as hell. But Spike had translated and expounded and taught him a few slang words, and they'd both liked the movie a lot. 

Xander put the mug on the table in Spike's reach and leaned against the edge, humming with the radio. Spike propped himself up on his elbows, eyes half-shut, and reached for the mug.

"Yeah, I 'memeber. This's Iggy Pop. Saw him at _CBGB's_...ages ago...when I killed my second Slayer. Bloody good show, him an' the Ramones." Spike gulped the blood, the mug chattering a little against his teeth. 

"Want some more?" 

Flicker of blue eyes, tongue going out to lap a drop of scarlet from the corner of scarlet-stained lips. "Yeah, gimmie 'nother one, my shoulder still hurts. Bloody soldiers. Bloody Watcher - what'd he use, a damn soup spoon on me?" 

"It was pretty deep," Xander said, getting the second mug-full ready, looking over at Spike where he was twisting in the chair, taking his duster off and going through the pockets. 

_”Your skin starts itching once you buy the gimmick... About something called love…_  
_Oh love love love..."_

Xander slammed the microwave door, glancing in irritation at the radio, as if Iggy was betraying a confidence. Then he heard the familiar snick of Spike's Zippo and he crouched down, poking at the clutter of cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink. * _Know it's in here...ah ha!_ * He found the ashtray he was looking for and slid it onto the table in front of Spike, then turned to get the blood. This time he sat down opposite the vampire and watched him as he sipped the blood and smoked, looking better already. He'd actually been _too_ pale there, for a little while, and the pain and exhaustion in his face were fading now. Spike watched him back, silent, and they both listened to Iggy sing. 

_"I got a lust for life... A lust for life...lust for life...lust for life... "_

The song ended and something came on that Xander didn't recognize, and he found himself yawning hugely. It was well past midnight, and he had to work in... * _Fuck, four hours? Four and a half._ * 

"I gotta go to bed, Spike - gotta work tomorrow. Listen - why don't you get a shower and go to sleep. I'll find a new shirt for you to wear and you can just camp out here for a few days. Tomorrow's payday so I can stock up, and…." Xander's too-fast words petered out under Spike's wide-eyed stare, and he tapped nervously at the tabletop. " _What?_ Why are you staring at me?" 

"What're you up to, Harris? Bein' - awfully friendly, lately. You thinkin' maybe...you're gonna get more'n a kiss outta me? That what you're fishin' around for?" Spike was back to looking pissed off, and Xander stood abruptly, snapping off the radio. 

* _ **Now** he remembers. Great._ * 

" _No_ , Spike, I'm not - _'fishing'_ around for anything. I'm offering - I'm offering hospitality, like I did back in the damn _basement_ , you remember that? I told you then what I thought, and I haven't changed my mind, I still think the same. You're not a child, you're not an animal, and after tonight...as far as I'm concerned, after tonight the fucking _Initiative_ had better stay the _hell_ away from you _and_ from me, because I have _had it_ with those bastards. And that includes Riley. Fuck, Spike... " Xander leaned across the table, looking the vampire straight in the eye, knowing his heart was pounding, knowing he couldn't really lie to Spike but doing his best to _convince_ him. "Can't you just - _take_ what I'm offering? Just take it and be - " 

"Grateful? Want me to be soddin' _grateful_ , Harris?" Spike sneered at him, the cigarette punctuating his words. 

Xander hung his head for a minute, then he stood up straight, and pushed his hands back through his hair. "No. I don't want you to be grateful - I don't expect you to be. You're - I can't imagine what you're feeling, and I have _no_ idea what this is like for you. But I want to help you, Spike. I'm not - expecting anything. Just...take it, ok? I'm going to bed. There's extra towels in the bathroom, right there on the shelf." Xander walked away, to the bedroom, and Spike's quiet voice stopped him. 

"You said - back in the basement... You said you cared, if I lived or died. And you said - you'd explain it - explain that bloody kiss n'all." 

Xander stood in the doorway for a minute, then he sighed and turned around. "I will. I promise. But not tonight. I'm just - I'm too tired, tonight. I'll tell you tomorrow, ok? I promise." 

Spike looked at him, then he ducked his head and stabbed out the cigarette - sat staring at the ashtray. "Night then." 

"Goodnight, Spike." Xander turned and walked across the room, tossing his robe onto the foot of the bed and sliding between the cool, worn sheets, settling the weight of the quilt over him. He willed himself to relax, taking several deep, long breaths. But even as his body drifted, leaden from exertion, his mind raced. 

* _What was that all about? Did it mean... Does he want me as much as I want him? Fuck, he could probably smell what I did in the shower, no wonder he... No, come on...young single guy, here, we do that all the time, doesn't have to mean anything at all - even if it did... Oh_ **fuck** , shut up, go to sleep, just go to sleep…* 

Xander tried to make his mind go blank, but he couldn't, and the same useless drivel kept running around and around his head. The soldier was silent but the hyena wanted resolution * _pack or not-pack!_ * and Xander didn't know what to tell it. 

He listened to Spike in the kitchen, smoking another cigarette, pushing his mug or the ashtray around on the table, a gritty slithering sound. Then the scrape of the chair moving, and the kitchen light snapping off. Spike moved through the bedroom and into the bathroom, and Xander watched his shadow under the door, listened to the shower and then the sink running. He jumped up out of bed and pulled the heavy curtains across his windows, then got back under the covers, doing the deep breathing thing again, wishing he could fall asleep before Spike was finished in there. But he couldn't, and when the light went out in the bathroom Xander couldn't help but strain his eyes to see the vampire. He could vaguely make his shape out, a paler blur against the darkness of the bathroom. Hesitating in the doorway. 

"Come on, Spike. Come to bed. Just like the basement, huh? I won't kick you and you won't hog the covers." 

A disembodied snort of laughter and Xander's bed creaked and dipped under Spike's weight. After a moment's shifting around, Spike was still. They lay silently for what seemed like hours. Xander was finally starting to doze off when he heard a sigh from his left, and a slight shifting. 

"Thanks, mate," Spike whispered. Xander grinned into his pillow, and was asleep. 

_______

Iggy Pop - _Lust for Life_


	2. 500 Channels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may, if you've read the original version, notice a few edits here and there. Nothing drastic - just catching typos and whatnot. Also, I'm sticking to the original chapter lengths, so they will vary.

When his alarm went off the next morning, Xander reached over and slapped at it, then just lay in the bed for a minute, smiling to himself. This had happened every morning down in the basement, and he'd known it would happen again. Had counted on it. Spike was curled around him, chest to back, knees tucked behind Xanders' knees, one arm curled under Xanders' pillow and the other over Xanders' waist, folded up against his chest. Seeking after warmth, after ... contact. 

_*After you? That what you're hoping? That if he was in bed with anybody else this wouldn't happen?*_

_*Shut up, *_ Xander said to the soldier. _*It's too early for that shit. Just let me ... savor this. Just one more minute...*_

The soldier was silent, and Xander did savor, concentrating on feeling every inch of Spikes' body pressed into his, on filling his lungs with the scent of him. He could feel his arousal growing, and sighed. Time to get up, start his day, go to work. Reluctantly, he pried himself loose from the vampire's grip and slithered out of bed. He opened his dresser drawers, trying to be quiet, grabbing underwear and jeans, socks and a t-shirt. He turned towards the bathroom and noticed Spike had shifted in the bed, moving over into the warm place left by Xanders' body, cuddling his pillow close and burrowing down. Xander couldn't help it - he grinned, and kept grinning as he dressed and washed and got ready for the day - grinned at himself in the mirror until the soldier barked at him to hurry up. Six o'clock - gotta be on site by six-thirty. 

Xander went quietly out to the kitchen and even grinned at the mess Spike had left - duster crumpled over his chair, smokes, lighter, ashtray, dirty mug scattered on the table with random ashes and a few dried blood-drops. Xander put the mug to soak in the sink and dumped the ashtray, then put it back with the cigarettes and lighter near 'Spikes' chair. Then he got some cereal and a glass of grape juice and turned on the radio to hear the weather. Mild and sunny - chilly after the sun went down. It was getting close to Christmas and it would actually be cool enough to wear a jacket, even during the day. Xander looked forward to this time of year, when the relentless California heat took a break and they got the merest hint that there were actual seasons out there. The weather was over and the DJ got on, loud and obnoxious, the 'morning wake-up' thing that Xander hated. Finally the DJ announced the next song - Nine Inch Nails - and it started playing . Xander hadn't heard this one before. He listened to it, crunching, and it seemed ... eerily apt. 

_*Trust Trent to have a song about my personal angst *_

_" I can't shake this feeling in my head ... There's a devil sleeping in my bed …_  
_He's watching you from across the way ... I cannot make this feeling go away …_  
_I know it's not the right thing ... and I know it's not the good thing … Kinda I want to ... "_

Xander finished his cereal and washed the few dishes, stacking them in the drainer and wiping the counter and table down. He'd only lived here a few weeks - had, in fact, moved out the same week Spike had - but he loved it already, and felt the urge to take care of it. _So_ different from the basement. He reached to turn off the radio, pausing to hear the end of the song .

_" Kinda I want to ... Maybe just for tonight …_  
_We can pretend it's alright ... What's the price I pay …_  
_I don't care what they say ... I want to ... "_

Xander sighed and turned it off. _*You and me both, Trent *_

He crept through the bedroom to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, then got a heavy flannel jacket from the closet and searched around for his work boots for a minute. They were half under the bed on his side, and he sat down on the floor and pulled them on, lacing them up, going fast. Done, he lifted his head to take a last look at Spike. Cobalt eyes peered back at him, tangled hair like a dandelion clock, pale-satin skin ... Xander blinked, and put his finger to his lips.

" I'm just going. Back around five. I'll have more blood and some Chinese or something, ok? "

" Dumplings and lots of soy sauce, " Spike whispered back, and Xander grinned. 

Spike nestled back down into his pillow and Xander stood up and walked out, grabbing his keys and wallet from the kitchen counter, stuffing a couple of apples into the pockets of the flannel. He stopped just inside the living room, went back and pulled the blinds shut in the kitchen, window and door, and made sure the chain was across the kitchen door. Then he was gone, grinning so hard he thought his face would crack. Spike would be there when he got home.

 

Some time after noon and Spike startled out of sleep. _*What was that?*_

He lay frozen, listening, but after a moment realized he'd only been dreaming. The house was silent except for the wind and the dry rushing of the surf, rolling in at the bluffs' foot. Spike relaxed, stretching hard, luxuriating in the softness of the bed. He hadn't got a bed at the crypt yet, and Xanders was nice, just soft enough to burrow into. He closed his eyes and lay there for another minute, but sleep was elusive and finally he decided to get up. He took another shower _*Don't know how bloody nice it is, to have all this hot water at their fingertips*_ and used Xanders' toothbrush, wondering if the boy had figured out he'd used it the night before. Probably not. Maybe he didn't care, though - not if what Spike had scented and heard in the shower last night was over _him_. 

_*And wouldn't that be bloody ironic. A 'Scooby' lustin' after a vamp. And has been since the basement, unless I miss my guess. Can't say as I blame him. *_ Spike smirked. He hadn't seen himself in a mirror in over a century, but he knew he looked damn good. 

He wandered out to the kitchen, noticing his lighter and smokes stacked by the ashtray, his duster folded over the back of the couch. Even the bloody mug clean and in the dish-rack. _*Least he knows how to keep a place. 'Cept he never kept the basement like this. Guess he likes this place. *_

Spike heated up a mug-full of blood - human blood, and that made him grin - and settled into a chair to smoke and drink. He noticed that even if the house had had all it's blinds up, it was still pretty gloomy, surrounded as it was by eucalyptus, sycamore, and pine. Blood finished, smoke clenched in his teeth, he got his jeans out of the bathroom and pulled them on, then surveyed with distaste his bloody, torn shirt.

 _*Said he'd find me a shirt - guess I'll just have to find one for myself. Hope he's got something besides those bloody monstrosities I had to choose from in the basement.*_

Spike threw his shirt away and went into the bedroom. He opened the top drawer of the dresser and found piles of t-shirts - white, blue, green, a red one and a yellow one. No black. Wait - there was a small pile of vests, the A-line kind people called wife-beaters, and he pulled one of those out. It wasn't as big as the t-shirts would have been, and he smoothed it down over his belly. White, but better than baggy. He fixed another mug of blood and went into the living room, clicked on the TV. It took him just under two minutes to realize Xander didn't have cable and got about five channels. He switched off in disgust. _*Great. Bloody wanker. Who has a TV and no cable? This is going to be a boring day.*_ He got up, abandoning his mug on the side table, and lit another cigarette. _*Nothing to do but snoop*_ he thought, smirking.

Snooping took about an hour. He turned out every drawer and cabinet, went through the closet and all the boxes that were piled in the corner by the washing machine, boxes Xander hadn't unpacked yet. He didn't find much. In the bottom of the last box, amidst worn paperbacks and book club hardbacks were some matchbooks from a place called the ' _Fabulous Ladies' Night Club_ '. And a picture of Xander with his arm around the shoulders of a handsome, black-haired man. Spike looked at it closely. _*Never seen this bloke before. Looks like they was close, though*_ For some reason, that thought unsettled him. He shoved the picture away. 

Done snooping, he wandered back into the kitchen, bored and jittery. The confrontation with the soldiers last night, the damn tracer and the Watcher being such a bloody prick had all left him on edge. He felt like kicking the living shit out of something. _* Bloody fuckin' bastards. The lot of 'em. And the damn Slayer, servers her right, too bad that demon didn't slit her gullet for her and be done. Get this thing out of me, I'll show 'em how it's done, the fucks ...*_

But while he pictured bloody havoc and screaming vengeance on all and sundry, another voice in his head - a tiny voice, but audible none the less - whispered something else entirely. _*But are you going to do that to **him** , too? He's taking care of you - he's being good to you. And he doesn't have to, you know that. He kissed you ... don't you want to know why?*_ Spike snarled to himself, the demon coming to the fore and then flickering away. 

_*'Course I want to know. Doesn't mean I don't want to kill his bloody gang, though. He's not even part of the gang so much anymore. Got that job, got this place, doesn't seem to care fuck all about them. Skipped some meetin's, didn't patrol - pissed Red off when he told her cookies did not make up for getting every demon in Sunnyhell after him that day, or blinding the Watcher. Been nattering at the Slayer about that Riley bastard, too. Doesn't trust him, as well his shouldn't. Curiouser and curiouser*_

Spike snatched his duster off the couch and slumped into a kitchen chair. He went through his pockets, piling all the odds and ends on the table, picking through them, discarding a few things. He fanned through a pile of business cards and stopped on one he'd gotten just a few days ago. _*Clem. Yessss. This is **exactly** what we need here*_ Grinning, he got up and grabbed the phone and dialed the number on the card, ignoring the little voice that said _*We? How'd that happen?*_

" Clem? It's Spike. You were just over at my crypt the other day. Right, in Memorial Gardens. I got another job for you. Yeah, hang on ... " Spike grabbed a stack of mail and read Xanders' address off an electric bill. " Right. Bloody brilliant. See you in a bit, mate. " Satisfied, he lit a cigarette and pulled a box of Graham crackers out of the pantry, then rooted out a jar of peanut butter and a knife and started making sandwiches.

 

Xander drove down his street, fighting the urge to floor it and get to his house quicker. He'd thought about Spike _*curled up in my bed*_ all day - had, in fact, almost cut his hand open on a saw and had stumbled around in a daze. Manny, his foreman, had noticed and made him sit down and go over blueprints for the last couple of hours. 

Xander smiled, thinking about Manny. He was the owners' father, and was teaching Xander woodworking skills - how to make custom cabinets, tables, desks. It was amazing and interesting. _*And I'm good at it, which is **really** amazing*_ Manny owned Xanders' house - all the houses in this cul-de-sac - and had helped Xander do a few repairs before he'd moved in. 'Shotgun' houses, Manny called them. Built during the war, when military and civilians alike flooded into Sunnydale, to train and to work at the factories. The tiny lots had been planted with trees and the whole street was shady and green. And the best part, to Xanders' way of thinking, was the bluff and the beach, barely a quarter of a mile away. Just outside his back door, really. And even if it was a small, rocky beach, the endless whisper of the surf was comforting and relaxing. Xander loved it. 

As Xander neared his house, he spotted a rusting white panel van parked outside. He pulled into the drive and got out, frowning at it. The van had a ladder and some bundles of cable attached to the roof, but no company name or logo on its dusty sides. He felt his stomach clench up, paranoia kicking into overdrive. 

_*What the hell is up with that van. Is it - could it be the Initiative? Are they in the house? Did they find Spike? Oh fuckfuckfuck. Breathe, damnit, get inside and see what's going on first*_ Xander grabbed the cooler and the big bag of Chinese in one hand, and his tool belt in the other. At the very least, he could swing it and send the hammer and screwdrivers into someone's' face. He walked up to his front door, took a deep breath, and opened it. Stepping inside he was temporarily blind in the dimness, and he blinked furiously, trying to clear his vision. The first thing that he could see was a pale blonde head, sitting at the kitchen table, wreathed in smoke. There was someone across from him.

" Hey Spike," he called, shutting the door behind him.

" Did'ja get dumplings, mate? "

" 'Course I did ... we got company? " Xander approached the kitchen warily, and felt the knot in his stomach loosen a bit as he took in the visitor. A humanoid figure, with drooping ears and folds of loose skin and big eyes like a puppy. A demon. _*And when your company is a demon and that's a **relief** , you know your life is too twisted for color TV* _

" Yeah - mate a' mine. This is Clem. Clem, this is Xander. " 

The floppy-eared demon grinned nervously at him, making a small wave with his hand. " Hey there Xander."

" Hey, uh, Clem. " Xander dropped his tool belt and came all the way into the kitchen. He put the Chinese on the table and went to unpack the cooler. Spike watched him, grinning, and Xander noticed suddenly that the vampire was wearing one of his undershirts. His pale arms glowed in the dim, greenish light that suffused the shuttered house, and Xander stared at him for a minute before turning hastily and unpacking the cooler into the 'fridge. He grabbed two beers and a soda and shut the door, then turned to Spike and Clem.

" So - have a good day? " He set the beers on the table and pulled a chair out, just then noticing that Spike and Clem already had beers. _*But theirs are mostly empty, so that's ok. Fuck, he looks good in my shirt*_ Hastily, he opened his soda and took a long drink. 

" Bloody boring. That's why I called Clem. He works for one of those satellite companies. Got us a satellite. "

" Oh? He - a satellite? What're you - "

" You know - satellite TV? I set up accounts, mount the hardware, that sort of thing. " Clem bobbed a little in his seat, as if Xander were making him nervous. " Now you've got, oh, about five hundred channels. "

" Five _hundred_ ch - ? Uh - Spike, I really can't afford that many channels. I mean, that's kind of why I gave the whole cable thing a miss, you know?"

Spike puffed on his cigarette, elbow-deep in the bag of food, setting the little red and white cartons down in an every-expanding circle around him. " Don't worry 'bout it, Xander, Clem an' me have an understanding. Ok? Can't sit around here all bloody day watching five channels. I'd go barkin'. Ah, dumplings. "

" Hmm. Ok. This 'understanding' won't get me thrown in jail, will it Clem?" 

Clem jumped a little, eyeing Xander over his beer. " Uh, no. Not at all." 

Xander looked at him and Clem grinned. _*Just go with it. Spike's staying so he can watch five hundred channels! Ahem*_ Xander tried to quell the excited fluttering that his stomach was doing. Suddenly, he felt giddy. " Great. That's great. Hey, Clem, want to join us for dinner? Got plenty."

" Oh no, no, no. Can't do that. Got another installation to make today. Thanks anyway, though. It was, uh, real nice to meet you, Xander. See ya Spike. You call me if anything isn't working, ok? "

" Right, mate, thanks. " Spike waved a chopstick-skewered dumpling at Clem and watched as the demon let himself out. " That Clem's a good guy," Spike mused, and stuffed the dumpling in his mouth.

\-------------------------------  
Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails) - _Kinda I Want To_


	3. Secrets

When they'd eaten all the Chinese, and flipped through at least three hundred of the five hundred channels, Spike finally turned the TV off and looked at Xander. Xander immediately felt his stomach clench tight. _*Now it comes. The moment I have **not** been waiting for. Ok - bare essentials and we'll be fine. Oh, fuck*_

"Now what's gotten you into such a tizzy, mate?" 

Spike was _looking_ at him, and Xander tried to slow his heart down by sheer force of will. "I - uh - n-nothing at all, I'm fine." He gulped the last of what was probably one too many beers and set the bottle down a little too hard. They both winced at the sharp crack of it, and Xander had to check to be sure it wasn't broken.

"I wanna know - what's goin' on. That kiss - you takin' me in - everything. Right?"

"Right," Xander echoed faintly. He was less than delighted about telling his 'story', but he had to tell someone. If only to be _telling_ someone. It was lonely, having a secret. And it wasn't one he was willing, right now, to share with the girls, or Giles. It'd mean a lecture from at least two of them, and pouting and hurt faces from the girls. Maybe even yelling from Buffy. And he just wasn't up to it. He shifted a little on the couch, tucking his feet under him, and Spike shifted too, so they were facing each other. 

"Ok - I went road-tripping this summer and didn't get very far - Oxnard, to be exact. And...stuff happened...and the night before I left to come back here, I met someone - helped someone out, actually. And he - he had this - he gave me..."

"Just tell it, pet. Start at the beginning and go on until the end, right?" Spike looked only serious and interested, no smirk and no snark, so Xander took a deep breath and told him.

 

 

It had been a chilly night, and Xander had walked fast, hands stuffed in his pockets, tired from bartending and cleaning up, his head still ringing a little from the blaring music of the club. He'd gotten almost two-hundred dollars in tips that night, and was looking forward to using it to go home. Oxnard - this time, these things - were over. He was about a block from his place when he heard the noise: flesh on flesh, low cries, harsh voices. For a moment he froze, panicked, and then he was running, grabbing up a discarded length of board from a bin, his heart going double-time and his mouth dry. He came around a corner and saw two guys, one with a knife, one with a length of chain. And a third, huddled back into a wall, arms over his head and was that blood? In the orange glare of the streetlight it was hard to tell. 

Xander yelled and dove in, striking wildly, managing to hit the guy with the knife first, a lucky blow to the arm that made the man grunt in pain and drop the weapon. Xander swung again, hitting the chain-guy, screaming at the top of his lungs. He'd decided that 'homicidal maniac' might work to his advantage, so loud and wild it was. The soldier was bemoaning this lack of plan, but the hyena yipped excitedly, ready for a fight. The two attackers didn't even _try_ to fight - they just ran off, the knife-guy clutching his arm, both cursing. They were two of the same guys from...before, and Xander figured they just didn't want extra trouble. He stood staring after them, panting, until they were out of sight, and then he turned and crouched down next to the guy on the ground.

"Hey - are you ok? Are you hurt?" Xander saw the knife out of the corner of his eye and pushed it away with the board, under a nearby dumpster. He pushed the board under there, too. The other man slowly slid down the wall until he was sitting, his legs bent up and his arms across his knees. He had blood on his face and staining his jacket sleeve, and his dark eyes were a little wild.

"Listen - I live real close to here. Why don't you come home with me, get cleaned up. We can call the police if you want - " The man didn't look happy about that, so Xander added , "- or you can just get a drink, relax for a few. Up to you. But I don't think we should hang around here. Okay?" 

The man wiped his hands over his face, and looked at the blood on his fingers, then up at Xander. "Okay," he said, and pushed himself stiffly to his feet. He looked around for a minute, then bent and picked up a worn leather knapsack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he gestured to Xander and they both walked away, up the street and over one to Xander's place.

In the bright light of the kitchen the wounds didn't look too bad, and Xander got a clean washcloth and showed the man to the bathroom. While his guest cleaned himself up, Xander washed his hands in the kitchen sink and got a couple of beers out of the fridge. His hands were shaking - his stomach was in knots. He really needed to get the hell out of Oxnard. The man came out of the bathroom, blood gone, and Xander finally got a good look at him. He was maybe Xander's age, maybe a little older - it was really hard to tell. His skin was dark, and his hair, and he was wearing jeans so old and battered that it was amazing they held together. The undershirt he wore was no better, and the denim jacket over it had a new, blood-stained tear in an already ratty sleeve. Homeless, maybe - or a migrant worker. There was duct-tape holding the soles of his dingy high-tops on, and Xander thought about the money in his pocket. The man put his knapsack down on the table and settled into a chair. He reached out and picked up a beer, and Xander noticed a ring on his left hand - worn silver, etched with flowing lines, a design he couldn't quite pick out.

"This for me?" the man asked, tipping the beer, and Xander blinked.

"Huh? Oh - yeah. Sorry. Just - tired. Been a long night. So are you okay? Looks like the bleeding has stopped."

"Oh, I'm fine. Hard to hurt me." The man smiled and opened the beer - looked around the kitchen. "Got any salt?"

"Salt?"

"I like it in my beer. Just a pinch." Xander hadn't heard of _that_ before, but he got up and got the salt shaker from the stove and handed it over. The man poured a little into his hand and sprinkled it into the beer - carried the last grains up to his mouth and licked them from his finger.

"It's good you came along. Those men - they had their iron - I was going to be in a bad way."

"Yeah - those guys. They've...done that before. I thought they were in jail or something but I guess not." Xander opened his own beer and took a long drink, watching the man do the same. He had a different look about him. His narrow, foxy face was maybe American Indian, maybe Mexican, maybe Middle-Eastern. Xander couldn't place it, but his Hellmouth instincts - not to mention the hyena - were stirred up. This guy might not be one hundred percent human, but he didn't seem to be a _threat_ , either. At least, Xander hoped he wasn't.

" _You_ have had trouble with these men?"

"Oh, yeah I have, me and a friend... The worst part was - I'd seen those guys around. One of 'em works at the hardware store and he helped me figure out how to fix the wiring in here." Xander gestured around at his kitchen. "And the other guy likes to play pool, and we had a few games when I first got here. I thought - they were okay guys." 

Xander shook his head and took another pull of the beer. It had hurt, to see the violence and hate that lurked beneath the pleasant exteriors. The man drank his beer as well, watching Xander. He had feathers in his hair, Xander noticed suddenly. Two black ones, like crow's feathers, and a blue-jay feather, tangled in the mop of black hair that fell over his shoulders and obscured half his face.

"I'm a bit - weak in the stomach from that fight... Do ya think you'd have a bit of bread? It'd help calm me down." The man patted his flat belly, and Xander frowned at him for moment, then shrugged. Whatever would make him feel better, that was fine. Xander got up and got the loaf of bread from the counter and set it down on the table. 

"Help yourself." The man did, and they sat quietly for a few minutes finishing the beer, the man eating the bread in small bites, obviously not liking it very much. When it was done, he swept the crumbs away and put his hands on the table, looking up at Xander through the tangle of hair.

"You've given me bread and salt and drink. Invited me into your home - most importantly, intervened for me when I was in peril and could not defend myself. You have offered me the hospitality of your house freely, and for all these things I am in your debt. A debt you may call in at any time. Don't call for it lightly, or frivolously."

Xander stared at him as he spoke, feeling his stomach go tense and his heart start to pound. The man's voice was changing - his whole demeanor seemed to be subtly different. As if he had settled solidly into himself, suddenly. He sat straighter, and his voice took on a solemn, deeper tone. And Xander was quite sure that there was a glint of red in those dark eyes, like coals glowing out at him from behind the thicket of hair. Xander blinked and the man settled back in his chair. He was...the same. Some homeless guy, with dirt under his nails and duct-tape around his shoes.

"What the _hell_ was that?" Xander asked softly, and the man grinned. His canines seemed overly long, and Xander stifled a small gasp.

"That was me. Taking care of business. You helped me, I'll help you. That's all. And as for the calling - when you want to call in this debt - you just say my name. For you, it's... Jack Green. Don't forget that."

Xander studied the - man? - sitting across from him. He didn't feel a threat from him. Just - otherness.

"I'll make you a gift, too, for your gifts to me."

"What gifts?"

"Your hospitality. It's a gift few care to give. And here is yours." The man - Jack - rummaged in his knapsack and finally took out a small pottery jar, stoppered with a cork. For extra security, rough hemp cord was wound around it, making sure the cork stayed in. Jack unwound the cord - uncorked the jar - and a sharp gingery odor permeated the air. Xander breathed it, and it smelled like something good - something from when he was a child. It made him smile, and Jack smiled back at him.

"Now - lean closer. You have been hurt - people hiding behind masks, showing one thing and doing another. Never again." Jack dipped one long finger into the jar, and then extended his finger towards Xander, a small smear of pale green jelly on the tip. "Close your eyes. It won't hurt you." 

Xander looked at him for a long moment, and then took a deep breath and did it, ignoring the hyena that growled and the soldier that made his fists clench down tight on the table. Coolness touched his eyelids, his forehead, and then his nose and mouth, and his tongue licked out before he could stop it. He tasted sharp and sour and fresh and… _life_...before the taste faded completely away. He opened his eyes and Jack was there, smiling, putting the cork back into the jar.

"What was that? What did you do?"

"A gift. To see the truth. Now, when you want to see, you say this - _taisbean_. Say it now, Xander."

"I - I haven't told you my name."

"You didn't need to. It's written on the air. Say it, Xander. _Taisbean_."

"Ty-ben," Xander whispered, and everything...shimmered. And _Jack_ shimmered, and Xander's eyes went wide. Jack was wearing a velvet coat - it was a little shabby and worn, but the deep green was thickly embroidered with leaves and flowers in dark blues, purples, and reds. The linen shirt underneath was also embroidered, white on white, an interlocking pattern. The feathers that had seemed tangled in Jack's hair now seemed to be part _of_ his hair, and there were more of them, many more, mostly black but also red and yellow, and a few mottled black and white. His face had thinned, his whole body was thinner and longer without him seeming to be any taller, and his hands were almost spidery. His eyes glinted a deep red, and then were only black, glittering with good humor. And was the jacket actually velvet? It looked like - leaves, stitched together, bits of ragged leather, pressed flowers... Xander blinked, and the velvet was back.

"What - what are you? What did you do?"

"You said ' _reveal_ '. You're seeing - me. My true self. If you looked at anyone else right now, you'd see what was in their heart - you'd see their soul. You would have known the true self of those men that attacked... You can see anyone's soul, this way. Anyone's true heart."

"My...God..." Xander stared at Jack, seeing a glimmering swirl around him, motes of light that seemed to dance around and through his body, green and white and yellow. And he felt... _Age_ poured off Jack - age, and darkness, and something both fierce and jovial. It made Xander think of a cat at play - able to kill with a swipe of its paw, but in far too good a mood to actually _do_ it.

"What if I - what if I look in the mirror?"

"You won't see anything. You can't see your own soul. Doesn't work that way." Jack cocked his head, watching him. "You'll be able to see the true heart of demons, as well. What they really are."

"Demons?" Xander said weakly.

"I know where you're from. The mouth of Hell. That sink - it distorts the very air. I don't like it there. But the demons do."

"Who are you, really?" Jack smiled at him.

"Say this now - _ceil_."

"Keel." The shimmer again, and Jack was the homeless man, denim and patched shoes, just a man. 

"That is ' _hide _'. I think you'd find it a bit distracting to see like that all the time. Don't forget those words, now. _Taisbean. Ceil___."

"I won't."

"I know." Jack smiled at him again and closed his knapsack, buckling the flap down. "Now I really must go. You be careful, Xander. Use my gift. Let it help you. And remember - I owe you one thing, one great thing to repay you for your help tonight. Don't use it lightly. Hold it to you, think on it, wait. I'll always come to you if you call. Here. Keep this close." Jack reached up and pulled the blue jay feather from his hair and handed it to Xander. The rich blue and black of it was beautiful, and Xander ran his fingers over the vanes, feeling the merest tingle of...something. When he looked up from the feather, Jack was gone. 

The next day, Xander went home.

 

 

When he finished his story, Xander was staring fixedly at his hands, and he felt rather than saw Spike move towards him. Move and then stop, and then take an unneeded breath. Xander finally risked a glance up and saw Spike just sitting there, looking... _*That's thoughtful. Not pissed and not sneering and not...pissed. Thoughtful. Which is...good?*_

Spike stretched to the coffee table and got a cigarette. He lit it and puffed on it for a minute, staring into space. Finally, he looked over at Xander and Xander flinched from the look in his eyes. Anger. Calculation. And was that...fear? 

_*Damn. Thoughtful was **not** good. Here it comes*_

"Ssssoooo..." Spike hissed like a snake - a big, blonde, _scary_ snake, despite the Initiative hardware. "You can see someone's 'true heart', huh? Their soul? _Demon's_ souls? And what makes you think _demons_ have souls, mate?"

"Ummmm. Actually - Giles."

"What?"

"Well - ummmm - before you got here - to Sunnydale, I mean, there was this - incident. Willow scanned this book and it turned out it was this demon and he got into the computer and then he was in the Internet and he was, uh, tricking Willow and a couple guys into doing stuff for him and one guy tried to kill Buffy and - "

"Stop, stop. Bloody hell. What did the Watcher say to make you think demons - that demon - had a soul?" Spike sucked the last half-inch of his cigarette down to ash and stubbed it out fiercely, his eyes never leaving Xander's face.

"Uh, well, he was explaining that the book had been a trap - these guys had 'trapped the demon's soul for all eternity' in the book and the only way to let him out was to read him. It. The book. Which the computer did when Willow scanned it." Xander examined his fingernails, then looked up hastily when Spike spoke again.

"So, you been usin' this...gift. Been lookin' at things?"

"Yeah."

"Been lookin' at _me_?" 

Xander flinched a little and looked back at his fingernails. "Yeah, actually. Once."

"Not your business, lookin'."

"I know, but... I'd used it out on patrol with Buffy a couple of times and I had to see...if you  
were..."

"Good? Evil? Fucked? Which would it be?"

"Uh. None of the above?" Spike looked suprised at that, and Xander straightened a little. He wasn't going to be intimidated - Jack's gift was amazing, and he wasn't going to be afraid of using it, _or_ of telling Spike what he'd seen. "Listen. Giles is right - demons _do_ have souls. Demon-y souls. They're different than people souls...I mean, obviously...but they're _there_ nonetheless. A lot of them are really - horrible. The ones Buffy kills are mostly pretty bad, and a few that are just - around - they're scary. But a lot of them are...well, take Manny."

"Who the bloody hell is Manny?"

"He's my boss. He owns this house. His son owns the company I work for. He's from Portugal - left right before the war and moved here. And he's - a demon. His whole family is - are. He told me what kind - I can't remember right this minute. But he's - he's a nice guy. He's teaching me stuff. I even got invited to do Christmas Eve at his house." 

Xander smiled at that memory - he'd never spent a Christmas that didn't involve drunks, fights, humiliation and a fun-filled night on the lawn in his sleeping bag. When the terrors of the Hellmouth paled in comparison to a holiday get-together with your nearest and dearest, you were in deep trouble. Xander had to shush the petty little voice that reminded him that neither Buffy nor Giles or even Willow had ever done anything to make a sleeping bag on the lawn in vamp central unnecessary.

"You still with me, mate? 'Cause holiday bloody cheer and all aside, what the fuck does this have to do with me?"

Xander laughed - of course, that _was ___how Spike would see this. "Well, lots, maybe. I'm trying to say - Manny and his family are good people - demons - whatever. I _looked_ at them. And I could see their hearts, and I could see their souls. They want what most of us want - a place to live, their family safe and happy... Just normal. I mean - half his family is human, they did the inter-species marriage thing. About half the demons at Willy's are like that - "

"You keep the fuck away from Willy's. Bad element in there, could get you...hurt." Spike looked discomfited by what he'd just said and lit another cigarette, frowning. 

Xander ruthlessly quashed the little voice that burbled happily in his head * _Worried about me, he's worried about me!_ * " _You_ go to Willy's."

"'M a _demon_ , pet. It's the kind of place demons go. 'Sides, I don't go there anymore, and you better not, either."

"Why not?" Xander asked, and Spike looked at his cigarette, looked at his nails - the black polish was badly chipped, and he picked at it - looked at the ceiling. Looked sheepishly at Xander when Xander cleared his throat.

"Not real popular in Sunnyhell just now, am I? Been seen 'helpin' the Slayer', killing my kind - they don't trust me. Got banged about a bit, last time I went there. Blacklisted, as it were." This recollection seemed to piss Spike off and he scowled at Xander, taking a deep puff of his cigarette, blowing smoke across the couch towards the mortal. "Back to the point. What do you see when you look at...vampires?" 

Spike _said_ 'vampires', but Xander heard the 'me' in there, and he looked down at his hands again for a minute to hide the smile. "I see mostly what Giles says. Animals who want to kill and destroy. The part that's human - whatever makes them remember stuff from before they were turned - it's tiny. It's all - dark and squashed and...hurt. It's like the demon rips it apart and keeps what it needs and the rest just gets - locked away. But some vampires are different. It's like the human soul was strong enough to fight the demon off - or like the demon didn't mind the human, or something. The ones that still have a human soul - they've got the demon soul too, they've got both. You'll laugh, but Harmony still has her soul. I guess it's why she's still... Harmony. I mean, no demon on earth could stand up to a Cordette in full-on snark mode." 

They both laughed; Spike mostly because he knew vampire-Harmony pretty well, and Xander because it was still just too bizarre; Harmony as take-over-the-world evil vampire. 

"When did you...look at me," Spike asked, and Xander bit his lip for a moment.

"The first night you stayed in the basement with me." 

Spike looked at him, finishing his cigarette, thinking. "That why you...? Never mind." He crushed the cigarette out, frowning.

_*That's why I let you share the bed with me.*_ Xander thought. He took a deep breath. _*Now or never.*_ "You've still got your human soul too, Spike." Xander said it softly, but the vampire's reaction was instantaneous and violent. 

Spike leapt to his feet and hurled his beer bottle across the room - snatched Xander's and did the same, then swooped down to get right into Xander's face. The mortal flinched back as Spike's demon came to the fore and snarled at him.

" _Soul_ \- you're saying there's a human _here_ , Harris? _Demon_ , here, no bloody hag-ridden poufter."

"Spike," Xander whispered, trying not to look him in the eye - the hyena wanted him to bare his throat, show subservience, but Xander wouldn't go that far - wasn't _that_ stupid. The soldier fervently backed him up on this. "Spike, please? Let me tell you." 

The vampire spun away, growling, and Xander just sat still, watching him pace, watching his fists clench until blood seeped out from under his nails. Finally he stopped and stood by the window. He pushed the curtain aside and stared blindly out. His back was quivering with tension, and Xander wanted nothing more than to get up and smooth it - touch and rub and pet until the vampire was calm again. Xander clenched his own hands down tight, knowing he'd likely get smacked across the room if he touched the vampire right now. And while he could maybe deal with that _*Ok, no, I'd be pissed as hell*_ there was no way he was going to trigger that damn chip. So he waited.

After what seemed ages - probably really only about five minutes - Spike let the curtain fall closed with a sigh and came back to the couch, rubbing his palms on his thighs. He flopped down and stared at Xander, and finally nodded.

"Right. Tell me - what it is you _see_ , exactly."

"Ok. I'm going to really - look, ok?" Spike looked puzzled, but nodded again, and Xander whispered the word. _Taisbean_. Spike twitched a little, but sat still. And Xander looked, and told him.

"I see the demon. He - it - whatever… _glows_. This dark, dark gold, like fire. And there are all these - sparks. Gold and red and black, flying around, going _through_ him - through you. And then there's - you, or maybe William, I don't know. Longer hair, darker. Not so - hard. That part glows, too, paler - more like sunlight. And a lot of the time they're - together. Merged, like - kind of like you when you go all _grrr_ only... Well, it's hard to describe. But the sparks around him are white and silver, and they go into the demon, and the demon's go into him. They're just kind of - there - like ghosts, hovering just...inside you. I can _see_ the bad stuff, Spike. I can see how you got your name. I can see...the right hand of the Scourge of Europe there, you know?" 

_*Old and blackened blood sheathing blunt claws...gore-stained fangs that leered. And more than that - not only vision but feeling. Malevolence. Remorseless hate. The urge to destroy and absolutely nothing to stand in its way. Nothing but the human part.*_

"But...I can see how much you loved Drusilla, too. I can see it - I can see why you made that deal with Buffy, to keep Angelus from waking Acathla." 

_*The human part - it had to be William - strong enough to hold the demon - subsume it into himself and keep it still, keep it...under control. Obvious, when the human part wrapped itself around the demon and the demon closed it's eyes in bliss and surrender, and the blood and fury simply faded away. A feeling of connection, some sort of connection, and the demon wanted it badly enough to give in. The human had wanted it badly, too. Enough to give in to Drusilla .*_

Because that was there, too - the feeling that Drusilla, of everyone Spike had ever known, had seen _him ___. And wanted exactly what she had seen. "It's all there. It's..." Xander wanted to say _beautiful_ but he wasn't sure if Spike wanted to hear that. So instead, he ended with: "It's amazing. And - lucky you - not a trace of poufter anywhere."

Spike was staring at him, his eyes so wide they looked cartoonish, _*looks like a manga character*_ and then he snorted. Snorted again and was laughing, and then was laughing so hard he actually cried. As Spike lay helplessly on the couch, Xander stared laughing, too, and poked Spike in the ribs with his foot. The sparks were whirling faster - fast enough to make Xander dizzy, and the demon looked - puzzled. That made Xander laugh harder. He poked the vampire again and Spike batted at his foot. Poked a third time and suddenly Spike grabbed his foot and _yanked_ ; pulled Xander halfway across the couch and snatched him upwards by his shirt front. Xander ended inches from the vampire, chest to chest, Spike's hands tight on his biceps, one leg over Spike's thigh, the other squashed underneath. 

"That why you kissed me, pet? 'Cause you saw this - my - soul?" 

"That - that's part of it," Xander gasped out. The souls, this close, were more a golden aura than anything else, the sparks dazzling and dancing as if Xander had cracked his head on something. _*Oh man, **don't** mess this up, come on, calm down, just **tell** him... Oh, he smells so good, he - love his eyes, love how his eyebrows are so dark, love how his eyelashes are so long... That scar is really deep, must have hurt to get that...want to kiss him again...*_

"Well? What was the other part?" 

"I - thought about you. All the time. Ever since that first time that - when Angel tried to trick you into biting me. And after. I just - couldn't get you out of my mind. Couldn't get you out of my mind..." Xander whispered, and he leaned forward, the tiny bit he needed to, and kissed Spike again. A light, careful kiss, hardly daring to press, not daring to move at all. Xander felt Spike's hands clench tighter on his arms, and then he felt Spike start to kiss him back. To move closer, and press harder, and for a moment they were actually _kissing_ , cool and wet and Spike's tongue just touching his. And then Spike pulled away - let go and backed away completely, until nothing was touching at all. Xander couldn't move. His lips were tingling - fuck, his whole _body_ was tingling - and he wanted to pounce and get back into that taste, that scent...feel that lean and whipcorded body against his. He bit his lip, hard, watching Spike, and Spike scrubbed his hands back through his hair and sighed. 

"I need to - I gotta think about this, pet. I can't...I..." Spike shot to his feet and started pacing again, and Xander stood slowly and went into the kitchen. He got the broom and dustpan from the cabinet and went back to the living room. Spike had lit a cigarette as he paced and trailed smoke like a slim blond dragon. Xander had to smile. He went over to the wall where Spike had thrown the beer bottles - and thank god he hadn't hit the TV - and started to sweep. He was mindful of his bare feet, but when a piece got lodged under the edge of his bookshelf, he bent and carelessly tried to wrench it out. The glass sliced right into his finger, of course, and he straightened with a curse, wincing. 

"What did - you're bleeding." Spike was right there, grabbing his hand, looking at the cut and the blood that welled and ran down into Xander's palm. His eyes were dark and the tip of his tongue came out to touch his lip. 

"It's ok - not a big cut, didn't hurt much..." Xander watched Spike - watched the shivers that gripped him as he scented the blood. Watched Spike's eyes go gold and baleful as the demon longed for it - _looked_ , and saw the demon's color darken further, saw the sparks take on a reddish tinge. And the human part looked to be in pain. Not from the bloodlust but from the demon, whose insubstantial claws were scrabbling at the black spot in their skull - a spot like a cancer. The chip. Xander stared at it, that ugly spot of deadness in the glowing creature he... _*Love. You love him*_

"Spike, you - you can - " Xander didn't know what to say - how to say it. Instead he simply lifted his hand, offering, and Spike stared at him, demon-eyed. Then he bent his head and licked, like a great cat - licked every drop and streak and trailing line, and lapped at the small pool that had gathered in Xander's palm. And then he pulled Xander's finger into his mouth and _groaned_ , sucking the blood, eyes shut, and Xander felt it like fire all over his body, racing to that place. He felt himself harden, felt arousal like a wave of heat and cold wash through. 

_*Oh god, oh...if this is what it feels like to be taken, what does **taking** feel like, what is he - ooooh...fuck...*_ Xander swayed, and Spike pulled away slowly, letting his tongue trail over Xander's finger, the lambent gaze on Xander's face now, watching him. Xander stared back, marveling. The demon glowed like a bed of coals - the human part almost white, emerging for a moment and then sinking away, merging with the demon. The sparks were still reddish, swirling in a languorous dance. _*I think it felt - even more incredible - to be on his end. Fuck he looks...beautiful...sexy...want...*_

"Xander?" Spike was still staring at him, and Xander blinked and looked down at his finger. The cut was closed over, a raw-looking slash of red, but one that looked a couple days old, rather than minutes. "Xander..." Spike whispered, and the hand still holding Xander's was trembling. Xander realized that _he_ was trembling. 

"Wh - what?" 

"Why'd you let me do that, pet?" Spike whispered, and his voice was raw with want and need and...something. 

"Because I could - see you. I could see _you_." 

Spike closed his eyes, and his grip on Xander's hand became crushingly tight. Xander didn't flinch, didn't think about it, begging for the chip to not notice, not notice. Spike shook his head, the demon coming out, and he shot one last look at Xander and turned and ran. Xander just watched him - watched him go out the back door and across the grass, towards the bluff. The gibbous moon was high - small and cold and white - and its stark light showed the vampire running flat out, faster almost then Xander could track him. Spike ran to the edge of the bluff and was gone - dropping straight down the twenty feet between land and sea. 

Xander breathed a long sigh of relief. He wasn't going far, not without his boots - his duster. But he was safe there, on the beach. No Initiative, no humans. Xander heard a grumbling, shrieking roar, and knew it was Spike, pouring his frustrations into the night sky, into the wash of diamante stars and endless cold black. Xander whispered _ceil_. No need for seeing now. 

Hours later. The sky was faintly pinking and Xander was lying in bed, stiff from nerves, exhausted. He finally heard the door creak open and then click shut. He closed his eyes and listened to Spike coming into the bedroom, the soft swish of clothing being removed and tossed aside. Then Spike slid into the bed, and Xander could feel his shivering across the mattress. He hesitated for a long moment, and then scooted over, reaching for the vampire. His fingers found chilled, damp flesh, and muscles that shuddered from cold. 

"Damnit Spike - did you get wet? You'll freeze to death! What were you thinking? _Were_ you thinking?" Xander got out of bed and quickly went around to the other side, not even contemplating the impossibility of the undead catching a cold. 

"Move over right now. Get onto my side, where I was lying. Come on, Spike!" Dimly, he could see Spike's pale head, his bleached hair matted and spiked from salt water. Spike looked at him and then obediently slid over, settling into Xander's warm spot with a sigh. Xander got back into the bed and curled himself around the frigid body, rubbing Spike's arms and getting as close as he could. All the while he murmured in Spike's ear, low and soft. 

"It's alright, Spike, it's ok, just let me get you warm, alright, just let me hold you and warm you up, ok, it's alright, alright, I'll take care of you, keep you warm..." Xander rubbed and stroked, kneading tight muscles, smiling to himself as he touched the smooth skin; ran hands and fingers over a body that was satin over steel. After a little while Spike gave a great sigh, and his shivering, which had grown less and less, just stopped. Xander felt him finally relax, and he sighed and relaxed too, closing his eyes. He bit his lip, considering, and finally dropped a kiss on the back of Spike's neck, just below the salt-sticky hair. Spike shifted a little, and then he petted Xander's arm where it lay curled against the vampire's chest. 

"Wish I could see _you_ , pet," he whispered, and Xander squeezed once, briefly, and burrowed a little closer. In a few minutes they were both deeply asleep. 


	4. Keepsakes

_*Thank god it's Saturday*_ Xander thought, burrowing a little closer into the bed - into Spike. He didn't think he could get up if he wanted to, even though it was afternoon already. Spike smelled like salt and sand and spice, and Xander lay and breathed it in, resisting the urge to kiss the soft-skinned bit of neck that was just under his lips. Resisting, as well, the urge to stroke every inch of the cool, silken body that lay against him. It wouldn't be - fair. 

_*Don't want him to wake up and tell you to piss off, more like*_

_*Oh, go polish something, for fuck's sake*_ It was a little true. Despite everything that had happened over the past two days and nights - and that kiss in the basement - Xander still had no real idea of what Spike thought of him. And he wasn't in any real hurry to find out, if he could just continue to do this for a while. This...was really, really good. Better even then the four weeks Spike had stayed in his basement. They'd talked, and watched movies, and generally gotten along, but Xander's stress over moving and his feelings about being a Scooby had distracted him. He'd found that even while they were having a nice evening heckling 'Ah'nold', the little nagging voice in the back of his mind had kept him from really enjoying himself. He was going to enjoy _this_ \- naked vampire, in his arms - to the hilt.

Eventually, being human caught up with him, and Xander groaned and slipped out of bed. After he finished in the bathroom he pulled on an old pair of sweats and a flannel shirt and made his way into the kitchen. He made coffee on autopilot and stood there waiting for the pot to fill enough to get a cup full. The whole time, in the back of his mind, ran a litany - Spike's name. Xander wondered if this was normal or if he'd lost his mind as well as his heart. 

He took his coffee and the boom box outside and sat on the back porch, drinking and listening to chatter and music. It was just perfect outside - cool and sunny, and the ever-present breeze from the ocean smelling tangy and fresh. He heard the gull's shrill cries - watched them circle and dive over the edge of the bluff, endless and endlessly compelling with their sharp white wings and lazy, elegant swoops and spirals. 

_*Spike, Spike, Spike*_ running through his head. He daydreamed a little about flying, mind wandering from gulls to jets to gliders to gulls again until he realized his cup was empty and that the sun was starting to sink a little. He figured it must be nearly four o'clock, and wondered if Spike was up yet. He also noticed that he was rubbing his fingers over and over the cut from last night, and that every time he touched it, it gave him a little shiver of sense-memory.

_*What am I gonna say to him, when he **does** get up? I think protestations of undying love are not gonna go over all that well, and am I really ready to go there? Maybe...maybe I am. It **feels** like I am, but feelings are so...well, they're feelings, they're **supposed** to be so...but... I don't want to get in over my head. I don't think I could stand being laughed at, right now. He came back. He didn't try to kill me. He - accepted what I told him. It could all be ok*_

Xander stood up and stretched hard, then turned and went back into the house. As he shut the door he heard the shower running and smiled to himself. 

He had settled down with a second cup of coffee and his mail by the time Spike came out of the shower. The vampire was dressed only in Xander's robe, and Xander caught his breath as Spike came into the kitchen. The robe - a heavy cotton jersey in dark blue - was too big, and one shoulder slipped down and a little off as Spike flung himself into a chair, looking groggy. He hitched at it ineffectually and then looked around at the table. His hair, free of the gel, was tufted in loose waves all over his head, and he looked _*so young*_

You looking for something?" Xander asked, checking over his phone bill. 

"Smokes," Spike rasped. His voice was rough and hoarse - obviously it hadn't recovered from the howling he'd done last night. Xander shivered. 

_*Oh, **so** not fair. His voice is already like sex on toast, now it's like… **chocolate** sex on toast. Ahhh. Act normal, for fuck's sake Don't notice that his skin looks like mother of pearl next to that robe, that that place right above his collarbone is where I'd like to nibble, just a little...*_

"You left 'em in the living room. On the coffee table." Xander glanced up from the bill and straight into Spike's gaze. The half-shut eyes were full of speculation. Xander tried not to let anything show on his own face - tried to be casual - but his heart was going like a trip-hammer and he knew that a blush was coming on. 

_*He's gonna think all you think about is sex! Rein it in, Harris!*_ Xander looked back to his mail, rifling through the papers, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Spike stand up and shuffle into the living room. 

He came back with a cigarette already in his mouth. He set the ashtray on the table and went to the 'fridge, pulling out two bags of blood and fumbling his coffee cup, assembling breakfast and managing to get ashes and blood on the counter. Spike leaned against the edge of the worktop until the microwave dinged and then shuffled back to the kitchen table. 

Xander forced his gaze back to his mail, but his heart wasn't in it. "I'm starving. I've got frozen waffles - want some? They've got partially reconstituted one-hundred percent naturally unnatural blueberries in them." Xander smiled brightly at the vampire and Spike squinted through cigarette smoke at him, cup halfway to his mouth. 

"What?" 

"Waffles. Want some?" 

"Yeah. Sure. Why bloody not." Spike shut his eyes and drank and Xander got up and started making the waffles. He put them in a pan and shoved it under the oven broiler - the only way to make six at a time. Then he got the butter, syrup, plates and forks out. Spike just drank, little sips as if the blood were something _much_ stronger, and after a minute Xander stopped bustling and frowned at him. 

"You ok?" 

"What?" 

"I said, are you ok? You seem kind of...I dunno. Are you pissed off at me?" _*Oh damn, didn't mean to say **that** , just slipped out, **damnit** , now he'll think...what'll he think? That I'm a freakin' girly dork, that's what he'll think.*_

Spike stared at him, then flicked ash off his cigarette and regarded it closely, as if the filter were suddenly very interesting. "No. 'M not mad at you, pet. I - just a bit tired still, you know." He made a vague gesture with his cigarette, towards the bluff and the sea, and Xander nodded. 

_*More voice*_ the hyena grumbled, and Xander mentally shushed it. "Yeah... I can see how that could - wear you out." He opened the oven and turned the waffles over, singeing himself a little on the edge of the oven door. He sucked on the burn as Spike got up and fixed his second cup full of blood. 

"What d'ya wanna do today?" Xander poked through a drawer, looking for a potholder, but came up empty. He grabbed the towel off the dish rack and folded it, and took the waffles out of the oven. 

"Spike? 

"Huh?" 

"There anything you want to _do_ today?" The vampire watched him assemble waffles, three to a plate, butter between each one, butter on top. Xander put the plates on the table and got a glass from the cabinet - poured himself some milk. 

"I - can we go by my place? I need some stuff." Spike made a gesture with his hand, indicating himself, and Xander realized that Spike didn't have any clothes here. 

" _Oh_. Right. I kinda forgot. Sure, we can do that. I need to get some groceries and stuff anyway, so we can go by the store and your place both, no problem." Xander poured syrup over his waffles and started to eat. He watched in a sort of horrified fascination as Spike poured syrup and then blood over his own and wolfed them down. He glanced up once at Xander and grinned, his bad mood seemingly gone. Spike's tongue snaked out to lick a drop of blood-tinged syrup off his fork. Xander stopped feeling horrified and started feeling... 

_*Snap out of it, Harris*_

_*Sir, yes sir! Soon as this image of Spike and syrup and tongue gets out of my head, sir!*_

_*There was **blood** , Harris!*_

_*Adds to the flavor, sir!*_ Xander mentally shook himself and drank his milk down, then took his plate and glass over to the sink and ran some water over them. 

"Right. I need a shower, Spike. Be out in a few." 

"Sure, pet. Take your time." Spike was still grinning, and Xander wondered if the robe had been open quite _that_ far a few minutes ago. He decided to think about it in the shower and bolted for the other room. 

_*Damn vampires and their uncanny senses! Wonder if I have any Old Spice in here or something? That could drown out a dead cat*_

Spike watched Xander make his escape into the shower and laughed to himself. He'd thought the boy's heart might explode, it'd been beating so hard. And he'd smelled so... 

_* Smelled gooood. Warm and salt and rich, like...blood...oh... His blood, last night. Tasted so good. Could taste him - every bit of him, his fear and his want and his...*_

_*Love. You think he loves us*_

Spike ate the last forkful of waffle and looked at the sticky swirl of blood and syrup on his plate. He drew his fork through it idly, thinking about it. _*Maybe love. But. He's. Human, for one. And. A white hat. He can't - he'd never be able to really...*_

_* He can see us. He knows us. Better than anyone else in our life - better than Dru maybe. He sees us and that's why he - offered his blood. And he wasn't afraid. Not in the 'I'm gonna die' way. He wasn't. And he...*_

Spike thought about that, too. It was almost frightening, to imagine that someone loved him. Someone who wasn't Dru. She'd been his only - his girl - for so long. How could he let someone else in? He had to know...he had to see. He had a box - keepsakes. Dru's things. He needed to look through them, to know how he felt about her once and for all. She'd sent him off, alone and angry and desperate to prove he was what she wanted - needed. He'd ended up with the damn _soldiers_ , with this bloody thing in his head that might as well be a shock collar and a lead, and just be a good doggie for the Slayer... Spike snarled, his demon surfacing at the thought of her. 

_*Never. Die first. Take the Slayer with me. Get it out, get it out, getitout - * _Spike shot to his feet, growling, and almost hurled his cup across the room. With an effort he set it on the table, and then leaned there, head down, struggling with the demon. Trying to cope with the all-consuming rage the demon was pouring through him. It was still light outside - nowhere to run this time - and he couldn't tear Xander's house apart. Wouldn't. Finally, the demon calmed, and he reverted to his human face just as Xander came out of the bedroom.__

"Spike? You ok?" The soft voice was like warm velvet stroking over him, full of concern and care, and Spike shivered under its insubstantial caress. 

"I...I'm fine. Tired." He slowly sat down, pulling the mug back to him, but the blood was cold now and he grimaced in distaste. 

"Here, I'll..." Xander took the mug out of his hands and took it to the microwave. Spike watched him, studying him. He could remember, through a filter of rage (at Angelus) and worry (for Dru) and whiskey ( _because_ of Dru) the few times he'd met Xander before. When Angelus had used the boy as bait, he'd only thought _*good choice*_ because he'd smelled so _delicious_. Terror and anger and sweat and sweet and...something. A dark, rich undertone that Spike could smell right now, savory and warm. Angelus had always had a knack for finding really tasty...boys. Spike firmly put older, bloodier memories away behind a mental door and locked it. 

_*Gave him to us. Ours...oh, the blood...*_ The demon _wanted_ , and Spike mentally soothed it, quieting it. But the _want _remained, and Spike felt it like an ache through his bones.__

_*What am I, some stray cat? Take me in, feed me, I'm yours?*_

The second time - well, Xander'd been a soldier then, and the fear had had a darker undercurrent of... Something like bloodlust. He hadn't paid much attention then, but he'd sensed it again, the night they'd worked the spell and Dru had got her power back. The boy had been around there somewhere that night, fighting the Order of Taraka - he'd smelled Xander's blood like dark smoke in the air, but all his attention had been on Dru and Angel and the two Slayers. Then the pain of his back being shattered... That memory, too, went under lock and key. 

_*Going to run out of room for all the stuff you're locking away. Ever going to face any of it? Ever going to - *_

_*No. I'm not. At least...not right now. Kind of trying to get my head right, figure the boy out! He says you're my soul...William's soul. Not - inherited madness. So. Don't need to think about...all that, just now. Got enough to think about.*_

_* 'All that' has teeth. Better be careful how you lock those doors*_

Spike shook his head a little, silencing the voice, and Xander gave him a quizzical look as he handed Spike the re-heated blood. Spike took it with a nod of thanks and drank, reaching for his cigarettes. He frowned in irritation when he realized the pack was empty.

"Oh bloody buggering hell," he snarled, and Xander laughed. 

"It'll be dark in half an hour - we'll get you some more then. Listen - " He sat down opposite Spike, looking serious, and Spike felt his stomach clench tight. 

What was he going to say? 'Thanks but no thanks, don't need a crazed killer in my home'? He shouldn't have taken the blood last night, no matter that the scent of it and the boy had practically driven him over the edge. He shouldn't have gone off raging - probably scared him, shrieking and carrying on like that. But all that - that business with the soul, and what he'd tasted, thought he'd tasted, in the boy's blood... 

_*We tasted love. Some kind of love. Running doesn't change it.* _Spike gulped the rest of his blood, suddenly desperate for some comfort, some warmth. He realized Xander was still talking and he forced his attention back to the boy.__

"What?" 

"Spike! Geez. Ok, to review - I need supplies, so I have to go to the grocery, so _you_ need to write down any stuff _you_ need here on my list." Xander pushed a pad of paper and pen over to Spike, and Spike stared down at it Really, Xander had horrible handwriting. Spike squinted at the list, trying to read it. 

"What the hell does _this_ say - 'title point'? What in bloody hell is _that_?" 

" _Toilet paper_ , Spike, and you're supposed to be _adding_ to the list, not critiquing my penmanship." 

"You don't have penmanship, you have...chicken scratches." Spike looked at the lidless and rather grubby ball point pen in his hand with disdain. "This isn't even a proper biro, the ends all - _fuzzy_ \- or somethin' - " 

Xander snatched the pen out of Spike's hand and wiped it on his jean-clad thigh. "It's just a little lint or something, for God's sake. It's been in the junk drawer." 

Spike snatched the pen back and glared down at the paper. What did he want? _*The Slayer served cold. Those soldiers crucified... The boy...naked...under me...*_ Spike blinked and tried to think about groceries. Wondered if he dared add lube to the list and decided against it. He had a feeling he wasn't going to get anywhere with Xander by being flippant or crude. Although, maybe later... 

_*Ah. So you **do** want to...get somewhere? With him?*_

_*Sod. Off.*_ Finally, he wrote 'smokes' and 'Weetabix' and 'shirt' on the list, and pushed it back to Xander. "S'all I can think of," he mumbled, and Xander glanced down at the paper - did a small double-take and stared. "Now what?" Spike snarled. His head was starting to hurt. 

"Uh. Oh, nothing. You just - you have really nice handwriting. Like a - birthday card or something." Xander glanced up at him, smiling, and Spike shrugged. It was just handwriting - the same style everyone his age had written in. You learned it or you got caned. 

"Comes with the territory, mate. How we learned to do it." 

"Yeah. It's just...really nice." Xander ran his fingers over the word 'shirt', and then tore the sheet off the pad and folded it and put it in his pocket. "Uh - I'm gonna go see if I can find some clothes for you to wear. Those jeans you had on are pretty damp, still. I've got some stuff from last year, doesn't fit anymore, it'll probably be ok." Xander stood up and started to go back to the bedroom and Spike was right behind him. 

"Oi! If you think I'm gonna wear that same kit like last time you're out of your bloody mind." Xander sniggered, opening drawers. 

"Don't worry, I'm sure I can find something more appropriate for the evil undead than parrots and palm leaves." 

"Too bloody right." 

In the end it was last year's jeans and another A-line. The jeans were a little big and rode low on Spike's narrow hips, and Xander had to force himself to look away from the enticing line of dark-blond hair that tracked from the vampire's navel to...under the waistband. Spike grumbled about the jeans being faded blue, the shirt being white. Xander offered an over shirt - faded chambray work shirts in blue or green, or flannel shirts. He was surprised when Spike took a flannel shirt; dark red and green and black. The vampire's fingers stroked the soft, worn fabric and Xander wondered if he were cold or if he just liked the softness of it. Xander had already put on jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt when he'd gotten out of the shower, so they both only needed to put on their respective boots. Spike's shoulder seemed completely healed - he wasn't favoring it anymore, and he looked much better. Xander made a mental note to check the prices of the kind of beer Spike liked - if he could afford it, he'd get him a six-pack. He sighed, looking down at his checkbook. While Spike had finished dressing he'd written out checks for the phone, the electric, and the insurance on his truck - Uncle Rory's car had never recovered from Oxnard - and he didn't have too much left, after buying blood the night before. 

_*So much for payday. Keeping vampires is expensive. Keeping...hrmmm. No, don't go there*_ He mentally stopped any train of thought that led to Spike naked or in the bed or... 

_*How about anywhere? Doing anything? He looks as sexy in those old jeans of mine as he did in the robe and naked in the bed. He can't **not** look good, and damnit, I can smell him...want to taste him* Xander rubbed his finger over the healing cut and shivered, then stuffed his checkbook into the junk drawer and picked up his bills. _*Gotta remember to get stamps.*_ _

"Hey, b - Xander." Spike stood in the doorway to the living room, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. "I - got some dosh at my place. I took it off some winging little fledge I dusted. I can - I can pay you back for the blood." Spike seemed nervous, saying that, and Xander wondered why, but he felt himself smiling hugely at him. 

"Hey! That's great. You don't have to pay me back, you can just kind of ch- contribute, you know? Guess we'll go to your place first, so we don't come up short at the store. Ok?" 

"Yeah. Ok." Spike ducked his head, looking like he might be going to say something else, and then he just turned, rustle of worn leather, and went outside. Xander grabbed his keys and wallet and followed, trying not to grin like a loon. 

They approached Spike's crypt as silently and stealthily as possible - Spike vamping out and scenting the air, stopping to turn his head and _listen_ every few feet. Xander just concentrated on being as noiseless as he could be, and watched where his feet were going. They crouched in the shadow of the Robinson memorial for a few minutes, watching Spike's crypt, but finally deciding they just had to go for it. 

Spike stood at the door for a minute, listening, scenting...trying to _feel_ , maybe, if anyone was in there. He pushed the doors open cautiously and they both went inside, Xander's finger ready on the switch of his flashlight. 

Almost as soon as they were through the door Spike started cursing. Xander felt icy fear wash over him for a moment, and then he sorted out what Spike was saying and turned on his light. The crypt was destroyed. The things Spike had salvaged - TV, chair, a low dresser and assorted candle holders, cups, ashtrays - were smashed and scattered all over. What little clothes he'd had were shredded and - wet?- and even the old 'fridge in the corner was knocked over, the door-hinge sprung. 

"Bloody _bastards_ , fuckin' soldiers..." Spike kicked at a broken CD box. He was staring around furiously when he suddenly noticed that the cover to the sewer access was askew. 

"Oh no, no _no_ , damnit, they did _not_ find that..." He wrenched the cover aside and leapt down into the darkness beneath. 

"Wait!" Xander tried stop him but the vampire was gone. He hurried down the ladder, trying not to slip on the rungs. Beneath the crypt was not, as Xander had rather imagined, a dark and dank tunnel but what looked like a natural cave. He flicked his flashlight beam around, nervous. Spike was nowhere in sight and he was afraid. What if the Initiative had left a trap or a...watcher down here? Spike could be caught - could be _dusted…_ " _Spike!_ " 

"M'over here, mate!" Spike called, and Xander gasped in a breath and followed the voice - the noises Spike was making as he apparently dug something up. Xander found him in a far corner. A tangle of rotting boards, rocks and dirt lay there, looking as if a support of some kind had collapsed years ago. Spike was shifting the mess, digging under it, and after a few minutes he uncovered a trunk. It wasn't huge; it was small enough for one person to carry, but still bulky. The wood was dark with age, and the iron bands that encircled it were rusted and pitted. Spike dragged it clear of the pile and gently lifted the lid. Xander tried not to stare, and saw only what looked like folded cloth before Spike shut it again. 

"Bloody bastards didn't find it," he murmured, and Xander watched him slump there for a minute, his hands caressing the trunk softly, as if it were alive. The he straightened and lifted it easily, balancing it on his shoulder. 

"C'mon, mate. Got the dosh over here - unless they found _that_." Xander followed Spike as they crossed the cave floor to a niche in the wall. More rubble was piled here, and Spike thrust his hand through a gap between some boards and pulled out a crumpled paper sack. He shoved it at Xander's chest and strode away, heading for the ladder. Xander clutched the sack to him and followed, stumbling a little over more rubble and broken furniture. He climbed up the ladder and found Spike waiting impatiently by the door. Spike took a long, lingering look around the crypt, and his face finally relaxed out of the demon's vaguely feline planes into his own. 

"I'm gonna make them hurt for this." He looked straight at Xander when he said it, and Xander looked straight back. He knew he should feel fear - should be worrying about Spike somehow getting his revenge. But he didn't - he wasn't. All he felt was rage, _for_ Spike, at seeing his things destroyed, his home desecrated. He could smell what was on the clothes - knew what the soldiers had done. He'd take a little revenge himself, if he could, for this and other things. Riley at least was in his grasp. He returned Spike's hard stare and nodded once, acknowledging what had been done, and what would _be_ done. Spike grinned suddenly, and the overwhelming tension of the last few minutes seemed to drain away. 

"Got what I came for, any road, and they didn't bloody touch it, so that's all right. Guess we'd better get outta here though." 

"Yeah. I'm not feeling too good about being here. Let's go and get our supplies and get home." They made their way quickly back to Xander's truck, the very silence of the cemetery making them both a little jumpy. Spike settled the trunk carefully into the middle of the seat and climbed in, but when Xander tried to shift into reverse, he bumped into it with the stick. 

"Uh - gonna have to move that or hold it on your lap or something, Spike, I can't back up here." 

"Bloody hell. Hang on... " Spike lifted the trunk, shifting it, and then had it half in his lap and half on the seat, scooting himself over towards the middle. "That do you, mate?" 

"Uh...yeah. That's g-great." Xander shifted into reverse, his hand rubbing along Spike's thigh as he did. _*Oh yeah, this'll do me fine. Fuck. Breathe*_

As they drove Spike started wiggling around, trying to get something out of his pocket without upsetting the trunk. It seemed to be balanced on his legs precariously, as if one end were heavier than the other, and he needed both hands to keep it braced. 

"Need any help?" Xander asked, and Spike shot him a frustrated look. 

"Yeah. Can't seem to get my smokes. Just reach in here..." Spike held his arm up, gripping the trunk, and Xander slid his hand into the duster pocket. They'd stopped for smokes first thing at a gas station, as soon as they'd left the house. Xander felt around for a minute, his fingers identifying the Zippo, a slim, closed knife, some change, a - handkerchief? Maybe a bandanna. Spike's leg... 

_*Damnit, he did that on purpose. Are they even in here? Calm down*_ Finally he found the pack and pulled it out, then the lighter, and lay them both on the seat. 

"There you go." Xander congratulated himself on how even his voice sounded. 

"Can't exactly get one out and light it, pet. Takes two hands to work the Zippo, you know." There was glee in Spike's voice, and Xander was pretty sure he could have gotten that damn pack of cigarettes out of his pocket all by himself. 

_*Fine. I can do this. Red light coming up, no problem. Try not to choke when you light the cigarette...in your mouth...and then put it in his...*_ Xander held the steering wheel in a death-grip and down-shifted with unnecessary force. They came to a stop and Xander fumbled a cigarette out of the pack and held it awkwardly in his mouth. It took two tries with the Zippo but he finally got it lit, then applied the flame to the tip of the cigarette. Merest breath in, to make sure it was lit, then he shut the Zippo and took the cigarette out of his mouth - held it out to Spike. The vampire leaned forward and took the cigarette delicately between his lips, and Xander felt his knuckle just touch the cool chin. Then Spike was sitting back, squinting through the smoke, grinning at him and puffing out a cloud of smoke. 

"Cheers, mate." 

"Yeah. Right. Cheers," Xander mumbled. The light was green, and he put the truck in gear with a jerk and drove on to the store. The faint taste of cigarette smoke lingered on his lips like a kiss. 

Shopping had been... Well, if any other member of the gang had been there, it would have been a nightmare, but Xander had actually had fun, in a heart-pounding kind of way. The mingled expressions of horror and disgust on Spike's face as they'd pulled into the discount chain's parking lot had been hilarious, and Spike almost hadn't come in. In the end, though, he'd grudgingly admitted that he _didn't_ want Xander picking out the clothes he needed, so he'd settled the trunk tenderly on the truck seat and followed, asking Xander at least four times if he was sure he'd locked _both_ doors. Inside they'd gotten a cart, dodged the greeter, and gone straight to men's wear. 

"This place is a zoo," Spike hissed, glaring at an octogenarian who'd grazed him with her electric _Shop'n'Ride_ cart. 

"Yeah, it is. But it's cheap. Oh look, these shirts are on sale." Xander picked up a four-pack of t-shirts: two grey, one maroon, one black. "This look like your size?" 

Spike peered at the shirts. "There's only one black one." 

"Oh, come on. Live a little." 

"Fuck that." Spike turned the package over, reading the sizing chart. "I need - M - I think." 

"You think? Let me see." Xander took the package back and studied the chart. "Yeah, you're right - what the hell are you doing?" Spike looked up at him, shreds of plastic in his fangs. 

"I'm gonna make an all-black package. Set of four, right?" He proceeded to shred more packages, pulling out black t-shirts and stuffing them into the least-shredded bag. Xander looked around in panic, sure a store employee would see them and make them buy _all_ the shirts. Spike kicked the opened packages under the display and held up the lumpy all-black one for Xander's inspection. "See? Just what I wanted." He walked around the end of the display and suddenly the black t-shirts came flying over the rack, bonking Xander in the head. 

_"What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing."_ Xander grated out, and Spike came back around the corner, a sealed package of black t-shirts in his hand. 

" _These_ are all black. And look - five. S'better." 

"What about _these?_ " Xander waved the made-by-Spike four-pack of black shirts. 

Spike rolled his eyes. "Those are _open_. I don't want an open package." He tossed the sealed pack into the cart and wandered away. Xander waited until he was around a corner before laughing. Then he followed, fast. Spike was standing in front of a wall of jeans, eyeing them with apparent loathing. 

"Don't they have any soddin' black?" 

"What is it with you and black?" 

"It's a thing." 

"Yeah, an annoying thing. Nothing wrong with color." 

Spike plucked at the pale jeans he was wearing. "These show the dirt. And the blood. Black's better. And _you've_ got no business makin' fashion statements, mate." 

This time, Xander rolled _his_ eyes. "Fine. Black is over here." The selection was smaller, but after about five minutes they found a couple of pair that would probably work. 

"Go try 'em on," Xander said, pushing the jeans into Spike's arms and looking around for the changing room. 

"What for?" 

Xander glared at the vampire, but he seemed genuinely puzzled. "Because...because if you don't..." Inspiration struck. "If you don't, and they don't fit, we'll have to come back here and exchange them." 

Spike looked at Xander - looked at the jeans - looked over at an obese man who was struggling to maneuver his cart between too-narrow aisles and knocking day-glo skater-style shorts to the floor in the process. "Right. Try 'em on." Spike crouched down and started unlacing his boot and Xander hauled him upright and propelled him down an aisle. 

"It takes forever to do these boots up right, you know," Spike grumbled, but he sat on the little bench and unlaced, yanking his boots off and tossing them to the side. Xander noticed he wasn't wearing socks and mentally added them to his list. Spike stood up and undid the waist of the borrowed jeans and started pushing them down. 

_*Oops, no underwear either. Guess past a certain...age... you really don't have any modesty.*_ Xander spun around, checking for anyone, feeling an embarrassing rush of heat to his groin. _*Damnit, it is totally unfair that he can do that to me. **And** that he **knows** he does that to me. Probably reeling from the fuckin' pheromone hit. Ok, breaths, deep breaths.*_ Xander heard rustling, and then Spike tapped him on the shoulder. He twitched away and turned to face the vampire, a rather forced smile on his face. 

"Right, so, they fit?" Xander looked down at the jeans - the black, painted on, utterly sexy jeans. _*Well fuck, here we go again.*_ "Yeah, they fit just fine. Great. Let's go." 

"Xan-derrr" Spike purred, and Xander's heart thumped painfully. He looked up at Spike's face. Straight into eyes half-lidded, lips curved in a small, knowing smile. Spike cocked his head a little to the side, his gaze raking Xander from head to toe and Xander shuddered. He could practically _feel_ Spike's gaze on him - the smoldering weight of that regard, so focused and intent. 

"Wh-what?" 

"Shouldn't I try the other pair on?" 

"Huh? Other p- oh. Oh, no. No. They're exactly the same. No need of that. Why don't you just slip out of those and I'll - I'll go get you some socks, ok? Right." Xander turned and got four steps when something smacked into him from behind. He turned and fumbled the black jeans that were trying to strangle him. 

"Just put those with the t-shirts, right, pet?" Spike said, standing there with Xander's blue jeans dangling from one hand. Xander looked - stopped looking - turned, nodded and ran _*No, we're walking briskly*_ back towards the cart. He could hear delighted laughter coming from the changing rooms. He tossed the jeans into the cart, looked around and found a pack of socks _*serve him right if I bought him orange socks or - hehe - argyle*_ then pushed the cart back towards the changing rooms. Spike emerged a moment later and tossed the other pair of jeans on top of the first and then looked quizzically at the mortal. 

"What's next, pet?" 

"Food. Beer. Sundries. Let's go." They managed to get the rest of their supplies without anything too awful happening. Spike vamped out and made a cart-full of clamoring children scream bloody murder, and he insisted on sniffing every single different scent of shampoo before letting Xander put one in the cart. 'Freesia Fantasy'. At that point, Xander didn't care if it was 'Rotten Apple' scented, he just wanted out. He was pretty sure he'd seen Spike slipping things into his pockets and was starting to get paranoid. 

"Ok. We got what we need. Let's get out of here." Xander pushed their cart up to a check-out station, resigned to a long wait. Why was it _always_ so crowded in here? It had to be dinner time or something - why weren't all these people at home, eating? Spike had pulled out a cigarette and was lighting it. 

"Spike. You can't smoke in here." 

"I'm gonna eviscerate somebody if I don't get a fuckin' smoke, mate," Spike growled, taking a huge pull on the cigarette. 

"Look - there's the doors where we came in. Just go out there and smoke, I'll be out in ten minutes, ok?" Spike craned to look over at the doors; eyed the cashier, who seemed to be a trainee, and the two loaded carts in front of Xander. 

"Cheers, mate. That I will." 

He started to push past Xander and Xander grabbed his arm. "Wait - give me some of that money, ok? I don't want to be short." 

"Oh, right. Here." Spike reached into the inner pocket where he'd stashed the bag of money and pulled a crumpled handful out. He shoved it into Xander's hand and slipped away, dodging people and carts. He got stuck behind an over-loaded cart being pushed by an older couple in sweat-suits. Just as they reached the door, he dodged around them and was gone. The door alarm went off, and the sweat-suit couple stopped in confusion, looking around helplessly as a manager and a boy with 'Cart Crew' across his t-shirt hurried up to them. Xander closed his eyes briefly in sheer panic. But he knew that Spike had done it just right - gotten out and left the huge cart-full to be the main suspect. Xander just hoped he'd go sit in the truck or something and not hang around near the doors. He started unfolding and smoothing out the money Spike had shoved into his hand, and his mouth went a little dry as he realized that the ten or more bills were all fifties. 

_*Please don't let them be counterfeit. Please*_

Closer to twenty minutes later and a quick stop at the stamp-vending machine Xander was finally done and walked outside, almost a dozen bags swinging from his hands. He walked quickly across the parking lot and found Spike sitting on the lowered tailgate of his truck, smoking, swinging his legs and drinking from a - stolen bottle of whiskey. He hopped down when he saw Xander. 

"That took for fuckin' ever. What the bloody hell were you doin' in there?" 

"Just waiting my turn." Xander loaded the bags into the truck bed, up near the back window, and slammed the tailgate shut. "Come on, let's go." He opened his door, got in, and leaned over to open Spike's. The vampire lifted his trunk up in his arms and settled carefully with it, shutting his door awkwardly. Xander started the truck, shifted into reverse, tried not to think about Spike's thigh, backed up, shifted into first gear, thought about Spike's thigh, and drove away.

At home, they unloaded and put things away. Or, rather, Xander unloaded and put things away. Spike carried the trunk in to the living room and then sat moodily staring at it, drinking the whiskey and petting the trunks' rusting, splintery sides. When Xander had decided to move in to this house, he and Manny had agreed that the kitchen needed a pass-through in the living room wall, to open the space up a bit. Now Xander watched Spike through it while he put milk and frozen dinners and bread and other groceries away, and stacked Spike's new clothes on the table. He put the imported beer _*Can't believe they had that*_ on the counter beside the microwave and shoved the store bags into an empty drawer. Then he just stood there, for a long while, watching Spike who seemed to be lost in time - in memories - in whatever was in that trunk. 

_*Drusilla's things. Keepsakes of her. This is where he looks at their life together and decides it really **is** what he wants - decides to go back to being Spike-and-Dru and fuck the rest of the world. And... God...if he does that I don't know if...I don't know if I'll be able to stand it. Manny wants me to go work for his other son, up in Seattle, and maybe I will, if Spike decides... If he's still in love with her. I think I will because I won't be able to stand being here alone. Please, Spike. Please, please...*_

The soldier was silent, for once, but the hyena was making a low and mournful sound, somewhere in the back of Xander's brain. The hyena had decided on _pack_ , and pack did not leave. _* **Fuck** , when did this get so...how did I get in so deep? So fast?*_ Xander took a long, long breath, trying to calm himself, and jerked in startlement when Spike stood abruptly and came into the kitchen. The vampire started unloading the pockets of his duster, piling his stolen goods on the table. Zippo fluid, flints, a bag of lemon drops, a thermal coffee mug, a couple of candles, a high-end ballpoint pen, a tube of hair gel, and - 

"How'd you get _those_?" Xander asked, staring at the carton of cigarettes. 

"Nicked 'em outta somebody's cart in the parking lot. Git should'a been payin' better attention to what he'd bought." Spike took off his duster and then the borrowed flannel and the A-line. Xander just stared at him. 

"Gonna wear one'a my new shirts." Spike explained, grinning at him. He stood there, shirtless, and squeezed a little hair-gel into his hand, and then rubbed both hands together and smoothed them back through his hair. After a couple of passes he fished a comb out of his duster and combed his hair through once, then looked up at Xander. "Look all right then?" 

"Looks - fine. Much better than what Angel does with hair-gel." 

"Tosser." Spike picked up the t-shirts and ripped open the package and then pulled one on. He fished cigarettes and lighter from his pocket and lit up, then sighed and looked at the pile of things on the table. "I'm gonna...go look through the trunk. Would you...would it be alright if..." 

"You want some privacy?" Xander asked softly, and Spike looked up at him, his eyes wide and already anxious. 

"Yeah. I mean, your house an' all, but ..." 

"It's ok. I understand. I'm just gonna do...stuff, you know? Start some laundry, get a little dinner... You hungry? " 

"Maybe in a while. Thanks...Xander." 

"Sure, Spike. We're...we're friends, right?" 

Spike looked at him, and something sparked in the depths of his lapis gaze. Then he smiled softly. "Yeah. We're mates." He took the ashtray off the table and went back into the living room, and Xander went into the bathroom and spent far too long staring at himself in the mirror, willing himself not to care. As if that ever worked. 


	5. Radio

Spike sat on the couch in Xander's living room and set his ashtray and smokes on the coffee table. After a moment's thought he lifted the trunk up there, too. Then he unlaced his boots and took them off, shoving them under the table. He tucked his feet up, cross legged, and finally, finally, reached out to the trunk and opened it. The hinges were stiff and they protested loudly, and Spike winced a little. He sat looking at the folds of red cloth that obscured the contents. A smell came to him, over the must and damp of the rotting trunk. Dru's scent, compounded of Florida Water and church incense and herself - musk, sweet, licorice. All faint, so faint but _there_ , and he breathed it in - leaned forward and pulled the red cloth out, burying his face in it. 

It was a hooded, red-velvet cloak, lined in white satin. Heart's Ease blooms had been embroidered along the edges, and silver flowers fashioned the clasp. Dru had loved that cloak - said it made her feel like Little Red Riding Hood, only _she_ got to eat the _wolf_ up, this time around. She'd gotten it off an opera singer in Danzig, and had worn it for years, until they went East to China. 

Spike hugged the soft folds to him, seeing the little tears along the hem, the places where time had unpicked the embroidery. The white lining was cream-colored now, stained along the bottom edge with travel and damp. He breathed deeply of her lingering scent. He petted the cloak, then folded it over into his lap and leaned forward to the trunk again. There were books - Balzac, Dumas, Austen, even a Hemingway and Aldous Huxley - and several cloth-bound journals, green and blue and faded red. Dru had read Freud's ' _Interpretation of Dreams_ ' and had started keeping dream journals. There were at least ten of them, and Spike picked one up and leafed through it, skimming the yellowed pages filled with Dru's stiff, schoolgirl hand. He read a phrase here and there, but it was mostly nonsense. His own name caught his eye, and he read: _"My Spike burns so brightly in the night I can hardly bear to look at him. But the knight must throw down his armor if he is to win the hand of fair prince..."_ Spike shook his head and put the books down on the coffee table, making a stack of them. Under the leather bound novels were three or four penny dreadfuls. They were so cheaply made that the binding disintegrated as Spike picked them up, and he was left with an untidy stack of crumbling paper.

Underneath were more things, loose in the trunk. The stake that the Chinese Slayer had used. It was carved and polished, a beautiful thing. Dru had carried it for years. Some jewelry; rings and a necklace, things Dru had abandoned over the years as too familiar. The same reason Spike had kept them. He couldn't bear to see the delicate ring of garnet and gold filigree that Dru had worn for a decade tossed aside. Or the necklace of pearls and emerald. Worth a lot, these. But he'd never sell. No one else would ever wear these things.

He came to a thick brown-paper envelope and picked it up, hands shaking ever so slightly. He knew what was in there - he dreaded it. He held the package for a long time, turning it over and over in his hands. Finally, sighing, he lifted the flap and slid the contents out into his lap. 

Pictures. Of Dru, of the Family...his whole life, almost, in sepia and faded kodachrome. The first one; Dru alone, taken not long after Angelus had turned her. She still had the lost look of a child whose family has left her, and Miss Edith was new, in her tight grip. The next was the Family - Darla looking faintly supercilious, Angelus sternly patriarchal, Spike himself smirking against the direct orders of the photographer, and Dru smiling her best smile, looking up through her lashes, one hand holding her doll and the other twined with Spike's. Then Dru in gorgeous Mandarin robes, with a paper parasol and jeweled sticks holding her hair up, taken right before he'd killed his first Slayer. Himself and Dru, at a nightclub in Berlin, the two of them forehead to forehead, eyes shut. Spike closed his own eyes for a moment, then went on. 

_*Only a few more now...nearly to the end.*_

Spike leaning against a car - a Rolls-Royce skiff - with Dru looking out from the driver's seat, both of them grinning madly. That was - London, 1931, and they'd lived at the hotel that was in the background for nearly two years, playing at being the eccentric artists. The next was right after the Blitz, their first night in Casablanca. Dru at a café table, a dark-eyed boy in native garb holding a tray of drinks and looking nervous. Spike had taken that one, using Dru's special camera and nervous about blurring the image. Then the both of them in New York, one of the few times Dru had consented to wear modern dress. She was in something vaguely Hollywood - a fitted sheath of a dress, long gloves, high heels. The emerald and pearl necklace. Spike, in a tuxedo and gloves, held her arm. That had been... some sort of coming-out party. Debs in white cotillion dresses and matrons in pearls and tulle. Tulle was slippery when it got bloody.

The last picture was one Dru had taken herself, which was the only reason Spike had kept it. It was himself, punked out, in an alley behind CBGB's. The neon from a nearby sign had made a strange sort of bloody halo behind him, and the reflected light from headlights and street lamps had spangled and glared in puddles, making it seem like he walked on crushed diamonds. He had no shadow in this picture, somehow, and the exposure had made him white as salt, while at the same time shadowing his eyes. He was faintly blurred, faintly transparent. It was a strange picture - one only Dru could have taken. Things just seemed to work that way, for her - anyone else would have gotten an uninteresting shot of a man walking past a doorway. Dru captured a demon, a fallen angel - a soul. 

Spike stared at the picture, remembering how much Dru had liked it. Photography fascinated her, and she had taken rolls and rolls of film, and cut the bits she liked best out of the pictures and pasted them up on the walls of whatever place they were living at the time. She'd made a half dozen of those kind of huge, unsettling murals; juxtaposing pictures of trees and torn paper and corpses, hundreds of pairs of hands, eyes, bloody mouths, city-scapes. Some woman in Prague had wanted to cut the wall down, put it in a gallery. Maybe she had. They'd fled Prague not long after.

Spike was startled out of his reverie by Xander, who had very quietly walked in and set a mug of blood down on the table. Spike looked up at him - at warm, dark eyes and a solemn expression. Dark hair, dusky skin from days in the sun. Like, and so unlike his Dru. He smiled faintly at the boy and looked back at the trunk.

"I like that picture of you. It's...just right."

"Yeah? My Dru took it. She had a knack for gettin' just the right...look, sometimes." Spike looked back at the picture - up at Xander again, who was stepping away, leaving him to his memories. He held the picture out.

"Here. Why don't you have it?" Xander looked at him and then at the picture, obviously unsure if he should accept. "Really. I'd like you to." 

Xander smiled, and took it. "Thanks. I do like it a lot. But..." He touched the photograph with one careful finger, then looked up at Spike. "I thought - you can't take pictures of vampires."

"Oh, well, not with a camera with a mirror in it. Dru met some queer little professor type in Berlin, he'd taken her picture and she thought he was a sorcerer. She turned him. As it happened, he just used this kind of camera - pin-hole camera - there's no mirror. Just a box with a little hole an' you put the film inside and uncover the hole..." Spike smiled up at Xander - looked down at the pictures he was holding. "He made her one, really pretty, all cherry-wood and brass. She loved it. It got smashed in Prague." 

Xander looked at him for a moment, then he went back into the kitchen, silent as a human could be. Spike listened to his heartbeat - slow and steady - and let it calm him. That professor - Spike could never remember his name - had burned himself up three months into his undead life. Sometimes curiosity was a bitch. 

There wasn't much left in the trunk - a few odds and ends. A comb Dru had used to wear in her hair, programmes from three or four plays when they were in Munich. A compact Dru had taken, the powder inside still faintly perfumed. She'd taken it for the enameled bat on the lid, thinking it a great joke. And one of her dolls - the nose worn down, dress in tatters. The half-bare head was grubby, and the eyes cracked. Spike petted the sad thing, then began to lay it all back, piece by piece. He hesitated for a long time over the photos, then he finally put them aside and lay the cloak on top of the rest, folding it carefully. He shut the lid and picked up the mug and slowly drank.

 _*Surrounded by her scent - it's almost like she's here. And I miss her, I miss her... I ache for her. But...I don't know if I love her, anymore. All these bloody things - all these memories - and I just don't know if it's love or loss... If it's habit or...passion. Oh Dru, Dru... I'd have bloody killed myself for you, once upon a time. Been anything - done anything. And now. **Why** did you turn me away? Will I ever, ever not feel your absence like a fucking knife in my gut?*_

Spike stared at the trunk, and weighed the packet of pictures in his hand, and finally he stood up and went into the kitchen. Xander was sitting at the table, a can of soda in front of him, studying the picture of Spike. In the back of the house the washing machine chugged quietly, and for a moment something almost like panic swept over the vampire: panic and a feeling of unreality at this domestic - _human_ \- situation. Xander looked up when Spike came in and smiled, and Spike felt a rush of warmth come over him. A sense of...belonging, that pushed the panic aside. He put the pictures and the mug down on the table, and stood there for a moment. Then he made up his mind.

"Would you help me with something?"

"Sure. If I can." 

No hesitation. No questions. Spike felt relief sweep over him, and calm. "I want...I want to burn the trunk." 

Xander's eyes flicked towards the living room, then back to Spike, serious and a little anxious. "Are you sure? You really want to burn her things?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's...just too bloody heavy to lug around anymore." 

Xander gazed at him in silence for a moment, then nodded and stood up. "Ok, Spike, sure. We can go down to the beach. There's always driftwood down there. And they cut down a dead pine next door, about a week ago. It's still there and something like that'll burn like a firecracker. We'll just grab some of the branches." 

Spike nodded absently and went to retrieve the trunk. They walked outside, and Xander quickly gathered an armful of cut limbs, the dried needles brown and scratchy, the resin still fragrant. They walked across the grass to the bluff, and climbed down. A couple of times Xander steadied himself on Spike's outstretched hand, and then they were on the sand. The water surged and foamed about twenty yards distant, glowing with phosphor. The shivery rushing sound of it was loud here, confined by rocks and land, and Spike and Xander worked in silence, dragging driftwood up and constructing a pyre. They built it far down the beach, near the tide line. Xander pointed out that anything that didn't burn would be dragged away by the outgoing tide, and Spike liked that idea. Finally they were done, and Spike set the flame of his Zippo to the bunched pine branches. 

Xander was right. They burned very, very well.

 

The last of the trunk was cinder and char. Black butterflies of ash swirled and danced upward on the breeze, and Spike rose from his crouch and nodded to Xander. They walked slowly back to the house, and the light in the kitchen seemed unreal and too bright to Xander. He considered for a moment, and then got out his stash of candles. He'd gotten a whole box cheap at a yard sale, and now he set a couple on the kitchen table and lit them, turning out the overhead light. He carried one into the bedroom as well, and the bathroom, then returned to the kitchen. Spike was leaning against the counter, drinking a beer, and Xander got one too. He felt - confined - in the house. He wanted to be back under the stars. Watching the trunk burn on the beach had made his heart surge wildly in him. Hope, that Spike was letting the past go - letting Dru go. Hope that Spike could be his, maybe. Somehow. He picked up the boom box and made a little gesture with his hands.

"I'm going to sit outside. I just - don't feel like being indoors right now. Want to join me?" Spike looked up from studying the label on his beer and nodded. He followed Xander out, a cigarette in his fingers, leaving his empty bottle behind.

They went out onto the back porch and sat on the top step. The moon hung low and coppery off the shoulder of the bluff, and the surf boomed and hissed, glimmering like fairy-dust out on the horizon. The salt tang of it made the night air seem cooler, and Xander shivered a little. He set the boom box down and switched it on, scanning the stations until he found the 'oldie's' one that could be counted on to play quiet, soothing stuff. There was a moment of static-y silence, and then low horns, slow and sultry, began to wind out into the darkness.

Xander didn't know the tune - hardly knew the music. It made him think of black-and-white movies, men in tuxes and women in floaty, feathered dresses. But it obviously meant something to Spike whose hand paused in mid-air, his Zippo held open but unlit, his face gone blank with an unfamiliar look of surprise. Xander barely heard the muttered 

" _Oh_ ", and then the snick and flare of the Zippo, and a long breath in, and out, smoke pluming upwards. "Bloody hell. Glenn Miller. Haven't heard this...in ages." He took another long drag off his cigarette, bare toes curling around the edge of the step, elbows on knees and his head sunk down a little, listening.

"Dru loved this - all this sentimental crap. Listened to it for hours - Tommy Dorsey and Louis Armstrong and that other...Les Brown. We was - we was listening to Miller when the bombs came, that first time..." His voice trailed off and Xander looked over at him, at the curve of his spine and the clenched fingers of his right hand, digging into his bicep, the other holding the cigarette out to the side, away from Xander.

"Bombs?"

"Huh? Oh - yeah. Bombs. The Blitz?" And in the face of Xander's puzzled look: "That _war_ you Yanks came in on 'bout fifty years ago, you know?" The words were sarcastic but the tone wasn't - not even remotely, and Xander nodded quickly, watching as Spike pulled on the cigarette again, the flare of the ember glittering in his eyes, hooding them.

"Yeah, ok, World War Two, I know that war, but - you didn't _fight_ in it, did you? I mean - what bombs?"

"The _Blitz_ \- Christ, what _do_ they teach in school these days? September, 1940. Me an' Dru were in London when the damn Jerries started rainin' down bombs on us. It was the middle of the afternoon and we were stuck, see, in this house we'd - moved into. I thought Dru'd just go barkin', you know, I thought she'd get - but she didn't." Spike sat up straighter and puffed for a moment on the cigarette, eyes looking off towards the moon but seeing - seeing bombs, Xander guessed, and his Dru.

"She cranked up the Vicki - the Victrola, you know - and put on some Glenn Miller and we - we danced. And the bombs fell for two hours. When we went out it was like a hell dimension. Fire everywhere - people screamin'... Just perfect for two blood-thirsty demons, eh?" Spike smirked over at him, and Xander nodded, but Spike's voice had been....

"They started up again 'bout four hours later - went on all night. Incendiary bombs, yeah? Fire just - everywhere." His voice trailed off again and Xander didn't stop him when Spike reached over and took his beer out of his fingers. He drained the last of it, and slipped the cigarette butt into the neck. Xander heard the faint hiss as it was doused in the dregs of the beer. The bottle clinked faintly as Spike set it aside.

"We thought - we'd stay, you know - people runnin' and screamin', chaos in the streets. Never knew from one morning to the next if they'd have a house or a job or a neighbor. You know what it's like, things goin' all to hell, everybody gets - friendly. We got invited into more houses that night... We stayed for a week, but those bombs - the fires burned all the time, and it just got too dangerous. Dru was lovin' it, but then, she'd go up to a burning house, stare at the flames - wanna dance. I couldn't risk it - couldn't risk her. All of The Smoke like one great charnel house an' me an' Dru dancin' to _I'll Never Smile Again_..." Spike laughed, but it was mirthless and rather strangled. Xander watched as he felt absentmindedly for another smoke, patting at the nonexistent pockets of the duster he'd left in the house.

"I miss her. I miss her - so much." Spike's voice broke over the last, and he turned his head away sharply, hunching down over his knees, both hands gripping so tight on his forearms that Xander expected to see blood well up. His shoulders hitched a little, and Xander knew, at that moment, that if Spike would turn and look at him, there would be tears. Tears streaking down from eyes wide and wounded as a child's. 

Another song started on the radio, and this one was a little familiar. Xander had heard it somewhere - his grandma's house, maybe, or over at Willow's house. He couldn't remember. The woman's voice poured out, rich as cream, and Xander lifted his hand and stretched it out towards the trembling shoulder of the man - the demon? - beside him. To the _person_ , who was remembering love and loss, and crying for all the things that he couldn't have, any more. 

_"See the pyramids along the Nile... watch the sunrise from a tropic isle..."_

"Spike?" Xander whispered, and finally, finally, let his fingers come to rest lightly on those shoulder blades, that rose like little fledgling wings from the taut stretch of black t-shirt. "Spike - c'mere." Xander stood up, stepping down onto the grass, holding his hand out. Spike looked up at him, and Xander's heart clenched tight and then resumed its rhythm with a hurtful thud as he saw there were, indeed, silvery tracks down the sharply sculpted cheeks, and eyes made black with pain. Xander let his hand trail down shoulder and arm to Spike's hand, and he tugged at it, pulling Spike's hand away from his forearm, pulling him up onto his feet.

_"Just remember darlin' all the while... You belong to me..."_

"Come and dance with me," Xander whispered, his heart beating so hard, so fast, that he felt dizzy. Spike's wounded stare went a little wider, and for a moment he resisted, and it was like tugging at a statue, no give at all. _*Please Spike, please, let me hold you, let me ...*_

Spike's free hand came up and wiped at his face, impatiently obliterating the evidence of his pain. And then he rose and came forward into Xander's arms, enfolding him. Cool, hard arms going around Xander's waist, chest to chest, and his head sinking down onto Xander's shoulder. Xander put his own arms around Spike's shoulders, letting his hands slide slowly up and down the slender, tense back, feeling the shuddery breath Spike took as they began to move, swaying ever so slowly to the music.

_"See the market place in Old Algiers... Send me photographs and souvenirs…_  
_Just remember when a dream appears... You belong to me..."_

"I loved her for so long. I gave her - gave her my heart. Gave her everything… _why_..." Spike's grip tightened, and Xander felt dampness on his shoulder, felt the cool drafts of unneeded, sobbing breaths and let his chin and cheek settle onto the sleek blonde head. He rubbed a little, humming with the music under his breath. He could say - nothing. What _could_ he say, to a hundred-years love that had flared so brightly and then burnt itself out in the crucible of the Hellmouth. What could soothe - what could comfort a demon - a demon who cried _*just like a real boy*_ Xander thought inanely - tears bitter with loneliness and heartbreak and desolation. 

_"I'll be so alone without you... Maybe you'll be lonesome too, and blue…_  
_Fly the ocean in a silver plane... See the jungle when it's wet with rain…_  
_Just remember 'til you're home again... You belong to me... "_

Xander listened to the words, shuffling his feet in the damp, cool grass, aware for the first time of the strange picture they must make. But he didn't care. He remembered that first kiss, weeks ago, that had loosed the first little piece of armor he wore over his heart - started the shattering process that had cut him until he bled, inside... And now. His heart raw and aching with need. The last couple of days - everything that had happened - had made it that much more urgent. 

_*I love...oh God. Love him*_

All he wanted was to whisper those secret words aloud. To tell Spike what was there, under that pale cheek - the emotions fluttering and leaping at the bones of Xander's chest as wildly as caged birds. He shut his eyes and pulled Spike a little closer; turned his head just enough, and kissed the stiff, blonde hair. Then just let his mouth rest there. 

He felt Spike shudder all over - felt him shift a little, and pull back, and Xander was staring down into eyes full of confusion and hurt, full of the reflected light of the moon and of a desperate wondering. He let his head go forward, so slowly, letting their foreheads touch lightly. Spike's face blurred in his vision and he shut his eyes, and tipped his head, just a little, and let his cheek roll over onto Spike's - let their noses bump a little and then... lips, so lightly. The wings in his chest beat and beat, and surely it was deafening to Spike, who could hear a heartbeat across a room. Xander pressed his lips a little more into Spike's, wanting...but going slow, so slow. So that there would be no - pressure. If Spike said no - if he pulled away again... Xander didn't want to think about that, _couldn't_ think about that. He opened his mouth, just a little, just enough, and felt a flash like lightning from mouth to groin as Spike's tongue touched his lips. The cool, wet tip of it traced along Xander's lower lip, tickling a little, then flicked to his upper lip, just brushing along the outside. Then more, as Spike pushed a little past, his tongue fluttering along Xander's teeth, dipping in a little further. 

Xander sighed into the kiss, shivering, and suddenly he couldn't wait, couldn't _not_ do it, and he opened his mouth wider and let his own tongue come forward to taste; tobacco and beer and blood and...something. That something that he'd dreamed about, thought about, for weeks - that strange, rich _spice_ that was just Spike. Xander went deeper, his breath coming hard through his nose and suddenly Spike was _holding_ him, so tight he couldn't move, crushing them together, deepening their kiss until their teeth clicked together, until Xander felt his lips bruising. But he didn't care, he didn't care. He kissed Spike back as hard as he could, trying to imprint himself onto the other, trying to say with breathy little moans and slick, dancing tongue what his head - what his heart - couldn't. Spike broke away finally, pulling back sharply and looking into Xander's eyes - searching the mortal's face, his own closed and wary, lips a little swollen.

"Do you - what do you - "

"Come inside with me," Xander whispered. He put one hand up, to cradle the cool, sharp planes of Spike's face, letting his thumb rub along Spike's lower lip. "Please..." he said, and Spike kissed him again, fleetingly, hard. Took his hand and led him away up the steps and through the kitchen to the bedroom, where the heavy curtains blocked the setting moon, and the lone candle flame, guttering in dusky-red wax, sent strange shadows dancing up the walls. Faintly, the sounds of the radio - a sultry blues - came through the screen door, and Spike enfolded him again, lips cool and devouring, his hands tugging at Xander's t-shirt, chilled fingers ghosting up Xander's back to his shoulders, curling over them and pulling them together. Xander did the same, letting his fingers glide up ribcage and pectoral, around to spine and shoulder blades, mapping the bones and muscle. His hands learning Spike's body as his tongue learned Spike's mouth. 

Spike pushed at the hem of Xander's shirt, and Xander swayed back a little, letting him pull it up and off, his own hands suddenly clumsy as they fumbled the hem of Spike's t-shirt. Finally it was off, and Spike ducked his head down to trail slow kisses from Xander's shoulder to collar bone to throat, leaving chill little wet marks behind, his tongue rasping and tasting like a cats. Xander caught Spike's belt-loops and pulled him close, gasping a little as their groins met and each felt the other's hardness for the first time. Spike nipped at the point of Xander's jaw, nibbled along his jawline and then was back at Xander's mouth. 

Xander sucked Spike's lower lip into his mouth, licking it, tasting it, and his fingers moved away somewhere below, feeling as if they were not even attached to his hands as he undid the buckle of Spike's belt and then began to undo the jeans. They were trembling, those strange, independent fingers - trembling with need and utter terror. Xander got the zipper undone, and then lifted his hands to Spike's hips, letting those clever fingers - _*like mice, like little mice*_ Xander thought - caress the arch of hipbone, and dip under the waistband of the jeans. 

Spike's mouth left Xander's again and trailed downward, chin and throat and sternum, nibbling little kisses with the occasional edge of tooth, the soft lap of tongue. Xander gasped softly as Spike found his nipple, and his hands pushed suddenly on Spike's jeans, easing them down over the narrow hips, freeing the trapped length of Spike's erection so that Xander felt it push wetly at his wrist. He pushed at Spike, urging him back, and Spike did a little staggering hop, getting the jeans off his feet. Xander guided him to the bed and pushed him down onto it. Spike fell in an elegant sprawl, left leg straight out, right leg bent, elbows braced behind him and his chin tucked down to his chest. He regarded Xander through his lashes, his chest heaving in unnecessary little pants. 

Xander stood for moment just looking, taking in the lean, long lines of the body laid out before him - a body cleanly muscled, angled and arched as a greyhound. The candle lit golden sparks in Spike's eyes, and Xander put his own hands to his jeans, undoing them and pushing them off along with his underwear, kicking them away. The wet sensation on his wrist persisted, and he unconsciously lifted it to his mouth and licked. The taste tingled through him like the first kiss - the spice-salt taste of Spike, trailed there by the tip of his cock. Spike's nostrils flared, scenting, and Xander knew what he was smelling - felt the heavy pulse of want in his cock, and the cool leak of fluid at the tip. He knelt down on the edge of the bed, between Spike's legs, and crawled slowly up. 

When they were face to face, Xander dipped down to kiss, giving Spike the taste of himself on Xander's tongue. Then he moved down, slowly, tasting each bit of flesh as he came to it, nibbling and licking, sucking hardened nipples and stroking his hands down Spike's ribs and up along his shoulders. He pushed Spike flat and trailed his hands down the cool arms until their hands were entwined, and then he nuzzled into the silky skin of Spike's belly, licking out to a hipbone, sucking hard on the hollow just under it. The thin flesh reddened and then bruised under his lips and teeth. 

Spike was panting aloud now, soft _ohs_ and sighs coming from him as Xander buried his face into the crease of hip and thigh and breathed deeply of Spike's scent, subtle and delicious, that had teased him from a distance for months - spice, leather, smoke. Spike's hands clenched in his, and Xander pulled both hands to his mouth, kissing Spike's knuckles and slipping his tongue between the fingers, then letting them go so he could slide his hands under Spike's thighs and grasp his cool flanks. 

Spike arched up under him, gasping, when Xander's mouth engulfed the cool flesh of his cock. Xander took the head into his mouth, sucking the drops of fluid there, rolling them over his tongue, breathing deeply as the scent intensified and Spike shivered under him. Xander pulled as much as he could into his mouth, sucking, licking, letting his teeth graze lightly, lightly up the shaft, then releasing him to go lower and lick and mouth the silky weight of the scrotum, holding it in his mouth as Spike's hips undulated, and his thighs fell open further. Xander moved up again, back to Spike's cock, licking up the underside, taking it in his mouth once again, his fingers stroking over Spike's belly and feeling the muscles tense and release, satin over sculpted steel.

Spike moaned aloud. He tangled his hands in Xander's hair, stroking his fingers through and through the dark strands. As Xander pulled away, bringing his mouth to the very tip of Spike's cock, the vampire tugged a little, insistent, and Xander willingly went with him, slithering up the cool body to sink into more kisses, Spike's hands at the back of his head, at the nape of his neck. Spike arched up, into Xander, and their cocks slid together, bumping and rubbing; not enough friction to get either off but a delicious, shivery sensation that served to ratchet their arousal upward a few more notches. Xander writhed over Spike, his hand clutching a firm buttock, the other on Spike's back, pressing him closer. He slipped one leg over Spike's hip and pressed down, and Spike arched up hard, shuddering.

"Spike - would you - I want - " Xander struggled to speak, breathless, near mindless, the feel of cool satin skin and flickering tongue stealing his thoughts away. He wanted - so badly - to feel Spike on him - within him. He wanted to feel - consumed, taken, _wanted_ \- and Spike...was it. Was all. Was the one who could anchor him, with his body and his need and his desire. Anchor his soul to him, that felt as if it were slipping out of him, sometimes, adrift on seas of darkness.

"What, pet, what do you want?" The blue eyes were dark and wide, so serious, so wary. 

Xander closed his own eyes for moment and gathered his fraying thoughts. "I want - I want you to be inside me. I want to feel you there - want you to feel _me_..." 

Spike kissed him, soft little presses of his lips, his hands sliding down to cup Xander's buttocks and pull him close.  
"I want to - I will - " Spike breathed, and twisted, turning them both so that Xander lay on his back. He brought both legs up, pressing his thighs against Spike's ribs, his hands running up Spike's arms to pull him down for another, deeper kiss.

"Need somethin', pet, don't wanna - _oh_ \- don't wanna hurt you."

"Yeah...drawer..." Xander watched Spike lean and stretch to the bedside table, yank open the drawer and feel inside, then settle back on him with the tube in his hand. 

"You ever - "

"Yeah. This summer - please..." Xander arched against Spike, and groaned softly when Spike knelt up away from him. Spike put one hand flat on Xander's chest, his eyes glimmering like a cat's.

"Then it has to be slow, pet, you know that." Spike's other hand flicked open the top of the tube, and he squeezed a large dollop of clear lube onto Xander's cock. His fingers dabbled in it then slipped lower, to rub along Xander's perineum, and then slide further down. Xander sighed and shifted, knowing that going too fast meant it would hurt, but wanting Spike to hurry, _*oh, please hurry*_. 

Spike began to rub lazy circles across Xander's chest, pinching his nipples, scratching lightly down Xander's ribs. He echoed the circles with his other hand, rubbing the tight muscle there, pushing a fingertip slightly in and then retreating. It seemed to go on for hours, those teasing touches, but finally Spike's fingers were pushing deeply in, two and then three, leisurely fucking Xander into a frenzy. Xander dug his heels into Spike's back, urging him forward, his hands knotted in the sheet.

"Please, please... need y-you..." he rasped, and Spike scooped up a last bit of lube and began to spread it over his own cock, his hips already moving in shallow thrusts.

"Tell me, tell me what you need..." Spike whispered, and then the head of his cock was pushing - was in, and Xander shuddered all over. Spike curled down over him, barely moving, letting himself go forward the barest inch. His mouth covered Xander's in a fierce kiss and then he was whispering in Xander's ear, his tongue tickling the whorls and curves of it, his teeth worrying at Xander's earlobe.

"Tell me."

"Oh, I... _oh_... I need - to f-feel it, to see you... Ssspike, do you see me?"

Spike edged forward another inch, his hands iron on Xander's hips. He swayed fractionally upright, meeting Xander's desperate stare. "'Course I see you..." his silken voice was puzzled, and Xander moaned and tried to thrust up on him, thwarted by the slim, strong hands.

"Tell me - what you see. Tell me - make me real, Spike - m-make me real..."

A long pause, and then: "I'll make you real."

Spike's eyes were golden, now, demon's eyes, and his voice had roughened to a throaty growl. He slid in a little deeper, and when Xander gasped and urged him forward with heels and thighs, he finally pushed all the way in, one long glide that sent fire through Xander's groin and up his spine. Spike began a slow and rhythmic thrusting, and he kissed and nibbled at Xander's mouth and throat as he spoke.

"I see you - demonslayer...builder... knight in patchwork armor... _oohhh_..." Spike began to thrust faster, his kisses becoming harder and his teeth biting now, little stings all over. Xander pulled him closer, his hands curling around Spike's back and his nails scoring into the damask skin. Spike shifted, angling a little differently, and Xander gasped, writhing, the vampire just hitting that spot, inside, that felt… _oh_ , felt good.

"You are... lover...brother...strong right arm...you are... s-sunlight... hearth fire... _oh gods_..." Spike crushed them together, Xander's legs tight around his ribs, Xander's hands pulling his head down to kiss him and kiss him between breathy moans and soft cries. 

Spike thrust hard and harder, unmindful that he was bruising the mortal beneath him, his senses overloading as Xander's heart raced and his blood rose, the scent and sound of it intoxicating. Xander felt the change; felt the canines in Spike's mouth like a great cat, felt the sudden rigidity of the demonic face against his cheek and forehead. 

Xander arched and thrust back as hard as he could, welcoming the frenzied pace, the bruising hands. Marking him, making him real, making him...other then he was, before. Spike arched away suddenly, thrusting ferociously, his mouth open in a soundless roar, and Xander snaked his hand down and grasped his own cock and stroked himself once, twice...and then he was coming, something like fire and something like ice sizzling over him. As his body tightened convulsively around Spike the vampire reached orgasm also, pressing so hard into Xander that Xander almost screamed. He could feel the cool jets in his body, as Spike emptied himself, and his own hotter seed across his hand and stomach. 

Spike stayed upright for a moment, locked into the arch, his belly heaving. Xander pushed one hand back through his hair, lifting it off his sweaty forehead, and then Spike was coming back to him, human again, laying over him and wrapping his arms around Xander, and Xander let his legs fall limply aside, his fingers stroking down Spike's back in languid strokes. They just rested a moment, Xander catching his breath, Spike stopping his altogether. Xander felt Spike kiss his throat, the top of his shoulder, and he rubbed his cheek against Spike's hair.

"Hey, no fair," Xander said, and Spike lifted his head and looked at him.

"What's no fair?"

"Your hair's still perfect," Xander said, and Spike snorted, grinning. 

"That's 'cause I'm evil, pet. Us evil types always look good, no matter what."

"Oh yeah, part of the whole package - bloodlust, psychotic tendencies, perfect hair. I guess it's the whole broody poufter thing that screws Angel over, huh?"

Spike laughed outright, and darted in for a quick kiss. 

"Guess so, pet." 

Xander stretched up for another kiss, and for a while they were silent, kissing each other slowly, content to just lie there. After a few moments Spike slipped free of Xander's body and they both shivered at that loss of connection. Spike shifted, sliding off Xander a little so that he was only draped over half of him, and he leaned his chin on Xander's chest, looking at him curiously.

"So - Xander. Tell me. What was that all about then, eh? Why did you...why d'you think you're not...real?"

Xander smiled at him, even though he heart was starting to thump uncomfortably fast. Something else he'd never told anyone. "Long story," he warned, jokingly, and Spike nodded at him.

"Oookay. Umm. This summer right after graduation - I decided a little road trip was in order. Remember me telling you? Get out of Sunnyhell, see the sights, have some fun before I locked myself into lower-middle-class drudgery. I was gonna drive to every state. I got as far as Oxnard, and my car - kinda blew up. In the most unspectacular way possible, I might add." Spike raised his eyebrows at him, the smirk just curling his lips, and Xander poked him in the ribs.

"Don't say it. I know. It's me all over. It was a crazy trip. I almost bailed right then - I had enough money for a bus ticket back, and I thought really seriously about just coming back here. 'Cause I'd realized something. I'd realized I was alone."

This time a snort of amusement from the vampire, and Xander rolled, pinning Spike beneath him and doing a little hip-wiggle thing that wiped the amusement away.

"Now hush and let me tell you. It just hadn't hit me until I was sitting in this greasy spoon, having the cheapest meal I could and wondering what to do next. I turned to make some comment to Willow and realized she wasn't there. And then I realized Buffy wasn't there. And if I said anything people would think I was nuts. But - I hadn't actually been alone up until then. You know? It was... "

"Right," Spike said, and some of the earlier darkness had come back into his eyes. "Right, I know."

"Yeah. It really freaked me out. I went over and stared at bus schedules for half an hour. And then I just - stopped. I decided I _wanted_ to be alone. I wanted to try it. I was probably safer in Oxnard then here, anyway, and I just - wanted to see what I could do on my own. So I hunted around and got a job at this... this strip club - "

" _Strip_ club? Oh my, _do_ tell - "

"As a _dishwasher_ , Spike, clean up those dirty thoughts." Xander wriggled again, doing a pelvic roll he actually _had_ learned at the fabulous 'Ladies Night' club, and giggled a little when Spike's eyes went wide and then narrowed in speculation.

" _My_ dirty thoughts - "

"Shhhh. Listen." Xander grinned at him. "I washed dishes. I rented this - well, they called it a trailer but really it was just this little RV whose wheels had rotted off. I went for walks and I met people and I helped my landlord fix some stuff around his house and the club... I really - liked it. Even got promoted to bartender. Nobody knew...well, nobody knew anything, you know? About me - where I was from, what I'd done. It was great. I was just - myself. And the best part..." 

Xander stopped and lay his head down on Spike's chest, his fingers absently caressing a pale nipple, smiling when he felt Spike's ribs hitch a little with a surprised breath. "The best part was, I was liked. They liked _me_. The real me. I never felt so..."

"Happy?" Spike asked softly, and Xander lifted his head and looked up at him, smiling gently. 

"Yeah. Happy."

"So. I'm guessin' part of this happiness was your - experience with this sort of thing." Spike put both hands on Xander's buttocks and squeezed, and Xander responded by flicking his tongue out over the same nipple. 

"Surprise. I started hanging out with one of the dancers. At _first_ , because he had a TV and a bunch of movies on DVD. We had movie nights and it was a lot of fun. Then I started hanging out with him before work, and then we had a few - well, dates - and one night I just didn't go home." 

Xander kissed Spike's sternum, then one nipple and the other, thinking about his dancer - Thomas Ironbear. Tall and lean with long black hair, half Lakota and half Chinese. The most exotic person he'd ever met. Almost the sexiest. 

"Mmmmmm..." Xander rolled his hips again, looking up into Spike's face and seeing a fleeting expression he couldn't quite place. "So, I had a job, a boyfriend, and something like a life. A really great three months, give or take. Then one night..." Xander frowned, and abruptly rolled off Spike. He took the vampire's cool hand in both of his and held it to his chest, staring hard at the shadow-daubed ceiling.

"I helped close the club, and Thomas and I were walking home, and we were being a little... touchy-feely in the street. And out of nowhere this truck roars up, and four guys jump out, and next thing you know we're fighting for our lives..." Spike's hand gripped his tight, and Xander glanced over at him, seeing the glare of golden eyes, lips curling back in a snarl. 

_*What is he...?*_

_*Pack*_

Xander tried a small smile and Spike blinked, his eyes going back to blue. "Well, we lived, obviously. I got bashed around a bit, but you know, being from here really came in handy. Thomas wasn't quite as lucky - he got some ribs broken, broke his wrist. A cop came by and those guys drove off... It really fucked with Thomas. He'd been up and down the coast, in a lot of big cities. Never had a problem like that - I mean, people had said some things but he'd never been attacked. It scared him. And of course, he couldn't work. His mom lived up in Eugene, and when they released him from the hospital he went up there. He asked me to go with him but... I just couldn't. I - "

"You missed life on the Hellmouth so much, I know," Spike said, and his voice was joking, but Xander propped himself up on his elbow, curling his arm around Spike's so that they were forearm to forearm, Spike's hand pressed to his mouth. He kissed Spike's knuckles, the back of his hand.

"I dunno what I missed. Something. But I just couldn't go with him. So I didn't. I came back."

"Soooo..." Spike pulled Xander back over onto him, settling the mortal between his legs, their hips fitting together nicely. Spike was mostly hard and Xander was half-way there, and Spike started a gentle rocking, his hands stroking down Xander's back and over his buttocks, up and back, again and again.

"How does this all make you...unreal?" he murmured, nuzzling into Xander's neck, breathing his scent in, tasting his skin.

"It...oh...ummmm..." Xander did the same, mouthing the juncture of neck and shoulder, nibbling little kisses that made Spike shiver. _*Ooh...knew that would be a good spot. He likes that...*_

"I was _myself_ up there. Finally. I wasn't - pretending anything or hiding anything...mmmm... And when I - when I came back it all...started all over again. Be - tag-along guy, be - goofy... I couldn't. I just could not. Not after all that. Not after - after Jack, and what he gave me." Spike rolled them again, pushing himself up and straddling Xander's hips. He pressed their cocks together, rubbing and stroking, and reached for the lube with his other hand. Xander watched him, hands on Spike's hips.

"Right, your gift," Spike murmured. He squeezed out more lube onto Xander's cock, and guided the mortal's hand to it. "Want you in _me_ , now," he whispered, and Xander nodded, his breathing speeding up as he watched Spike's face. He slipped his hand between them, trailing lube, preparing Spike's body for his own. 

"I'm not _real_ to them. I see everything - all so different now and...I just can't connect, and I can't ignore the bullshit anymore. They don't much like it. But..." Spike made a breathy whimpering noise as Xander slipped a second finger in, and his body clenched down hard.

"Oh...now..." he rasped, and Xander withdrew, pulling his knees up so Spike had something to brace against. He took his own cock in his hand and held it steady as Spike lifted himself and then hovered there, just resting himself on the tip of Xander's cock.

"They _don't_ like it, pet. I've noticed."

"And I don't care, I just don't care, anymore...Ssspike, please..." Spike grinned at him, then all at once pushed himself down, engulfing Xander in cool, tight flesh, and Xander arched up to meet him, groaning aloud at the incredible feel of it, the fleshy glove slipping down over him. Spike leaned back against Xander's legs, his arms behind him, hands curled around Xander's ankles. He began to move, up and down, slowly, and Xander moved opposite, trying to go faster, harder. But the vampire effortlessly controlled them both, and Xander lay panting with need, hands on Spike's hips.

"You're real - _you_ are, I see you, I feel you... _Oh_... I feel you..." Spike started to go faster, rougher, and Xander pushed himself up, propping on elbows and then hands, stretching up to Spike to kiss him, letting his legs go flat on the bed. The vampire put an arm around him, holding him close, pulling them into a position only his greater strength made possible. Spike rested his forehead on Xander's and shifted a little and began to work himself in earnest on Xander's cock, bending down to kiss him and then tearing away to gasp needlessly, deeply, his eyes wide and dark and looking straight into Xander's. 

Xander reached between them and took Spike's still-slippery cock in his hand and stroked the vampire as fast and as hard, gasping himself now, groaning down in his throat, lost in the feel of it, the clinging glide of Spike's body, his lips on Xander's throat. They strained and shivered together, mindless, and Xander felt his body tingling, singing, as his orgasm rushed through him. He heard himself making some sort of sound - a keening sort of cry, and Spike's eyes were suddenly locked onto his, and Spike was himself stiffening into ecstasy, his eyes wide and golden, unblinking, _seeing_ him. A moment after Xander came, Spike did too, and they both shuddered to a stop, leaning against each other, Spike's breathing slowing and then stopping altogether, Xander gasping into Spike's chest. He flopped back onto the bed, both of them twitching a little at the change of angle, and Spike put his hands on Xander's chest and rolled his hips once, grinning. 

"You wish," Xander said, careful to keep his sticky hands off the sheets. "I dunno about you, but I want a shower. And a drink. And damnit, your hair - "

"You can mess it up in the shower, pet." Spike swooped down and kissed him, then lifted and swung off in one move. He headed towards the kitchen, and Xander heard the rustle of leather as he searched his duster for cigarettes. He came back to the bedroom as Xander sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Xander stood up and wobbled a little, legs weak.

"Whoa." He leaned on the dresser for a minute while Spike found the borrowed jeans and dug his Zippo out.

"Another perk to bein' evil. I can shag you 'til you're dizzy."

"One more in the plus column. Maybe I should reconsider my attitude about being turned." Spike laughed, flicking his lighter open, drawing the smoke in deeply as Xander headed for the shower. 

He _did_ mess Spike's hair up in the shower. He shampooed until every trace of gel was gone, then ran his fingers through it again and again, making it stick out wildly, pulling some of it down over Spike's forehead and laughing when Spike growled at him.

Afterward they sprawled naked on the kitchen chairs. Xander brought the boom box in from the porch and the radio softly played swing and jazz, big band and blues. Spike talked about some of the music - about listening to this or that song with Dru, what they'd been doing. His voice took on a fond tone, remembering, and Xander hoped he was feeling a little less of the crushing grief and just being happy, talking about his girl. Two beers down, one soda, about six cigarettes, and Xander stood and stretched hard, reaching towards the ceiling and arching his back until it crackled. He relaxed out of the stretch to find Spike's gaze on him, hot and wanting. Spike reached out and pulled Xander close and Xander sat in his lap, straddling his hips, groin to groin. He fluffed Spike's hair, which had dried in loose, tumbled waves.

"You look like somebody out of a manga. Some rock star -slash -warrior- slash -tortured lover. It's cute."

"The evil undead are never cute. Devastatingly sexy...smolderingly good-looking...even _cool_... but never...ever...cute." Spike punctuated his speech with little kisses over Xander's chest and shoulders, and Xander closed his eyes for a moment, shivering.

"Right. Never cute. C'mon, let's go back to bed." He stood up and held out his hand, smiling, and Spike took it and went with him, into the dim cave of the bedroom, scent of sex and smoke and the faintly rose-scented candle. The radio played on, _My Blue Heaven_ , and westward, far out over the sea, lightning flickered silently.

 

Spike woke with a start, dreaming, confused for a moment by the heat and weight pressing all along his right side. Then Xander moved a little, murmuring, and Spike relaxed. In Xander's bed, in his arms. Warm, and sated, and for the moment, at peace. A very faint light came through from the kitchen, and Spike slid easily out from under Xander and ghosted out of the bedroom. False dawn made the sky palely green and yellow, but the whole of the western horizon was a dark, slatey blue, a storm moving in. Thunder growled, distant as yet, and a silent streak of pinkish lightning lit the underbelly of the clouds. Spike smelled the rain coming - ozone and wet earth, clean and rich. He pushed open the screen door and leaned in the doorway, smoking, watching the clouds advance. 

He wondered if Xander would notice he was gone - wondered if the boy would get up. He really wondered, with an inner smirk that tried to belie the knot in his belly, if Xander would be at all pleased to see him, naked in his kitchen, the bruises and suck-marks of sex dappling his body. 

The first month or so that Spike had been around, Xander had all but ignored him - when he wasn't saying something obnoxious, or cutting. But that had changed. Something had happened, and Xander had started to... Well, had started to _see_ him. To notice him in ways other than as an annoyance or an enemy. When Giles had pushed him off onto Xander, insisting that he couldn't keep Spike with him anymore, Xander had ducked his head and frowned a little, but he hadn't protested. 

And when Spike had gotten there, that first night, and Xander had run down the 'rules of the house', they hadn't been remotely like Giles's rules. Nothing about leaving bloody mugs sitting around or a long list of things he mustn't touch. They'd been about staying quiet so Xander's parents wouldn't know he was there, and not running out all the hot water, and turning off the sink in the kitchenette gently, because it was about to break and really, they didn't want water spraying all over everything. The kind of rules you told - anybody. Just a mate, over to stay, so watch out for the broken step and don't wake up the folks. And then the last thing - the thing that had shocked Spike to his core. 

Xander had asked - _asked_ \- about his food - about blood. Asked him how much he actually needed. Spike had grinned at him, thinking to fluster him with his answer.

 

_"Well, **you** have about twelve pints in you, boy, so I'd need one of you every couple days or so. Vampire's are like big cats - don't have to eat **every** day, if we get enough at one...feeding." _

_Xander had just looked at him - not in horror, or even squeamishly, but in speculation, and Spike had looked away suddenly, knowing what Xander was seeing. He was thin, now - almost gaunt - and the bruises and cuts from fighting, and from the Slayer taking a swing at him almost daily, just weren't healing all that quickly. Animal blood - just didn't work as well, and the constant **hunger** that twisted in his gut made him almost crazy. Made him snappish and anxious. _

_Then Xander had really shocked him._

_"It should be human blood, shouldn't it. I mean - you can't really live off pigs and cows, can you?"_

_"Not really." Spike had answered without thinking, and Xander had just nodded and gathered up keys and wallet, preparing to go out._

_"Come on then. I gotta get supplies, and I think you should help carry them."_

_Spike had just stood there, his mind a whirl of confusion. *** What is he - what's he playing at? Doesn't he mean to - *** "You're not going to tie me up?" he'd blurted, and cursed himself. *** Stupid, stupid, don't give him any ideas... ***_

_But Xander had just looked at him, serious and steady, a small frown drawing his brows together, the keys jingling nervously in his hand. "No, I'm not. You - you're not a child, and you're not an animal, no matter what Giles and Buffy say. I know I can't - I can't **trust** you, not really. But you don't want to die anymore than I do, so I'm going to believe that your instinct for self-preservation will override any really **stupid** impulses you might have. We are **not** \- " and here, Xander stepped forward, and poked a hard finger into Spike's chest. "I repeat **not** telling Giles or Buffy about this. I don't need to hear it from them, and what they don't know won't hurt them. You behave, and we'll - get along. I have to live here, too, and to be honest I can't live here with someone tied up in a chair all day. It...kinda freaks me out. So - can we do this?" _

_Spike had stared at the mortal boy ***really almost a man*** , stared into earnest and wary eyes in a frowning face, and smelled the nerves and the fear coming off him. He'd snarled a little at the poke - he couldn't **not** \- but he'd nodded, because this was Hell and away better than being chained in a bathtub ***and oh, gonna hurt the Watcher for that***._

_They'd walked out into the night ***Don't own this anymore...not mine now...oh gods can't do this ...can't do this.*** But he had to do it - had to be the Big Bad no matter what, because if he slipped, even once, he was dead. So he stalked along with this human - this white hat who seemed a little...tarnished, maybe. And ended up at the hospital, down in the basement, where the morgue and the storage rooms were. _

_Xander walked confidently, threading his way through a maze of tan-and-pea-soup-green painted cinderblock. He knocked at a door with biohazard symbols stuck all over it, and a sign that said 'Incinerator'. A young man - long hair in a lank ponytail and hospital scrubs looking a bit grubby at the edges - opened the door in a puff of pot-scented air, and grinned when he saw Xander._

_"Hey, man, thought you weren't coming."_

_"Just got a late start. D'you have my stuff?"_

_"Sure man, yeah. C'mon in here, quick." The boy shot nervous looks up and down the hallway and ushered them into the dim room. The incinerator loomed in one corner, and various broken-down chairs and gurneys littered the edges of the room. A medium-sized cooler sat on one gurney, and Xander crossed to it and opened it. Spike's eyes widened at the stack of bags inside - human blood, marked and dated, sitting on ice. And a lot of it - over a dozen bags._

_"You're sure this is still ok - hasn't gone off?"_

_"Nah - we get rid of fuckin' gallons of the stuff, man - can only keep it for like a week or something... This was all sent down here today, so - it'll be ok if you keep it cold."_

_"Great." Xander shut the cooler, hoisted it off the gurney and handed it to Spike. Then he reached into his pocket for his wallet._

_"Now - what'd we say - two bucks a bag, right?"_

_"No man - **four** bucks. C'mon, I could get fired over this."_

_"Right, four." Xander sighed and poked through his wallet. It actually had quite a bit of money in it._

_***Must have been payday or somethin'*** Spike thought, looking at it. _

_Xander pulled out a hundred dollar bill, sighed again, and handed it over. "Here Randy. Four bucks extra. I'll be back next week, same day, ok?"  
"Yeah, same day, that's cool. Here. For the four bucks extra." Randy fished in the pocket of his scrubs and pulled out a joint, handing it to Xander with a flourish. Xander eyed it suspiciously, then took it and tucked it away._

_"Great, thanks. See ya 'round, Randy. And listen. If I ever can't get here, then Spike'll be here for it, ok? This is Spike."  
Randy nodded at Spike, eyeing him curiously for a moment. "Yeah, man, ok. See ya." Randy grinned down at his money and gave it a little kiss, waving it at Xander and Spike as they walked out._

_"I know it's not enough, but I could only afford two people's worth, so you'll have to make up the rest with Porky Pig or whatever, ok?" Xander said, and Spike stopped walking, staring at him._

_*** What in bloody hell is going on? Why is the boy being nice? What does he want? What's the catch…*** Spike couldn't even get the questions out, and Xander turned around and walked back to him, impatience showing on his face._

_"Spike. Helloooo. Gotta get home sometime soon, here. You in there?" Xander snapped his fingers in Spike's face and suddenly Spike lunged at him, demon to the fore, snarling. Xander stumbled back and banged into the wall, eyes wide._

_"What the **bloody** hell are you playin' at, mate? What are you - what **is** this?" Spike snapped, wincing at the crackle of incandescent pain that flared through his head. ***Fuckin' chip***_

_"I'm - look, I'm just..." Xander licked his lips, nervous, and then seemed to resolve something in himself, because he stood up straighter and pushed Spike back, stepping away from the wall. "I'm not **playing** at anything. I told you. You're not an animal. You may not be a - person - like me or the gang, but I don't get to starve you or...or hit you just because you're different and because you can't fight back. You're helping us - you helped Giles. You're telling us what you can about those soldiers. As far as I'm concerned, that makes you part of the gang, whether you want to be or not, whether you'll kill us all when you can or not. I won't - I can't see the world in black and white anymore, and I won't. This is - hospitality. You're staying with me, I'll do what I can to make it...well, to make it bearable. And you'll refrain from tearing up my place or being a total fucking bastard all the fucking time, ok?"_

_Xander had gotten in pretty close at the last, and Spike let his human face return, the heady scent of hot blood and fear and anger lingering around Xander, mixed with his own, unique scent; sweetish and salty and warm. Spike looked down at the cooler in his hand, swinging it a little, then back up at Xander._

_"You're right. I'd kill you all if I could. But - I can't. So for now... pax. All right?"_

_"What the hell does **that** mean?"_

_"Fuckin' hell, you Americans. What did you **do** in school all day? Pax. It means peace. Right?"_

_Xander eyed him, as if not sure that peace with a vampire was all right no matter **how** much easier it would make life, but finally he nodded. "Ok. P-pax. And then we've got to figure out a way for you to make some money, 'cause I'm not gonna be broke **all** the time." Xander turned and walked away, and Spike followed behind, smirking a little, patting down pockets for a cigarette. Bloody pax, indeed. Maybe the mortal was telling the truth, though. He had a cooler full of **human** blood to help convince Spike that he was._

_"Not like I can go work at the local five and dime, boy. My options are somewhat bloody limited, just now."_

_"Yeah, whatever. I gotta get a better fuckin' job." Xander continued to grumble to himself as they retraced their path to the exit._

_They finally made it out of the seemingly endless corridors of the hospital, and Spike walked along almost jauntily, looking forward to a meal of human blood. And of finding out just what the hell was up with his human._

 

Spike flicked the ember off his cigarette and tossed the butt into the kitchen trash. The storm clouds were overhead now, and rain began to fall, pattering lightly at first but rapidly getting heavier and harder. 

_*How'd I get here so fast? From 'I'll kill you but pax for now' to...this? He kissed me, and he took care of me when those bloody soldiers... Told me his secrets, he did. Is that enough, though? Last night I..I let Dru go. And he...sees me. Knows me. Still wants me. Makes me feel...*_

Spike moved out of the doorway, pulling the screen door shut and shivering a little as random raindrops spattered him. He pushed the main door closed and heard the toilet flushing in the back of the house, then a moment later Xander stumbled into the kitchen, yawning. The radio was playing Louis Armstrong now.

"Isitrainin' ?" Xander mumbled, pulling open the refrigerator door and peering inside. He grabbed a jug of grape juice and took a long swig, eyes shut.

"Yeah - rainin'. Lightning and thunder, even."

"Di'nt hear any." Xander stood staring at Spike, the grape juice forgotten for a moment, and then he shook himself a little and put it away, yawning again. "What're you doin' up?" he said, and came close to the vampire, one hand reaching out to touch the mark he'd made on Spike's hip, fingertips just ghosting over it. Spike shuddered.

"Wanted a smoke. Guess I should - "

"Come back to bed, Spike." Xander looked at him, dark eyes wide and solemn, a little frightened maybe. Not of _him_ , Spike realized, not of what had happened. But of...what Spike might say. What he might _do_. 

_"I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' 'How do you do?'..._  
_They're really sayin' 'I love you'... And I think to myself…_  
_What a wonderful world..."_

Louis sang, and Spike smiled and took Xander's hand, and they went away back into the bedroom.

 

_____________

Patsy Cline - _You Belong To Me_  
Louis Armstrong - _What a Wonderful World_


	6. Sides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I was none too pleased with Buffy, Riley, Willow...all of 'em, really, from time to time. Not bashing, but a little over the top, maybe? Don't worry - the only person I left the series *still* not liking was Willow, and I tried very hard not to dump on her or make her a villain.

Lowell house was a shambles, and Xander stood looking at the mess while Buffy and Riley dressed. The whole ordeal - with freaky ghosts of repressed children, marathon sexcapades and semi-sentient people-hating vines was just really more then he wanted to deal with right now. Although seeing Giles doing an 'Unplugged' session at the Espresso Pump had been rather entertaining. He kicked at a shattered railing and went downstairs. Spike was in the lounge, surreptitiously going through various drawers and cabinets, pocketing a few things. 

"Feeling like a little petty larceny will round the evening out nicely?" Xander whispered.

"Never let an opportunity to get something for free pass you by, mate. Done well for myself with that kind of thinking over the years. Look - want a...commando-thing?" Spike held up a tazer and pressed the button, and dropped it when it went off, snapping out bluish sparks. 

Xander snorted, holding out his hands in a 'keep it away' gesture. 

"Bloody hell - that's what done for me before. And it hurt." Spike grinned and picked it up, shoving it into a pocket. 

Xander leaned on the back of the couch, arms crossed. "You know, I just want to go home. This place creeps me out. And Buffy...after what happened; the professor dead and Riley being _drugged_...she's still with him. Still running around with those damn soldiers. I don't understand what she's thinking."

"She's not, pet." Spike leaned next to him and lit a cigarette. "She's using what's between her legs instead of between her ears. Not much difference, I'll grant you, but..." 

"Ahh!" Xander pushed Spike away a little, grimacing. "Well, ok - point made. Just a little too..."

"Visceral?" Spike asked, eyebrow cocked, and Xander grinned.

"Way to impress with the two-dollar words, evil undead," Xander laughed, and Spike looked pompous.

"Tell me the joke so I can laugh at Spike too," Buffy said, coming into the room. Spike's pompous look reverted to snarl, and Xander straightened off the couch, stepping between them.

"No joke, Buffy. So - everything back to Hellmouth normal? Time for us workin' guys to turn in and get our beauty rest."

"No amount of beauty rest will do not-so-evil over there any good. And speaking of, where _are_ you resting lately, Spike? I've looked for you at your crypt and hey, no smart-assed corpse."

"That's not your bloody business, Slayer," Spike snapped. He glanced over at Xander and started to walk out, but Buffy moved lightning fast and grabbed him by the throat.

"It _is_ my business, Spike. Remember? _You_ tell me everything I want to know, and _I_ don't dust you." 

"Buffy - " Xander stepped up close to her and put a restraining hand on her arm. Spike was tight as a bow-string, half into game-face, and Xander just wanted everyone to calm down. He could feel his own anger rising in him, but he really didn't want to have a showdown here and now. 

_*Get it off what's ours*_ the hyena growled, and Xander couldn't help but agree.

"Let him be, Buffy. He's staying with me." Buffy goggled at him in surprise and let go of the vampire. Spike snarled at her, eyes glowing gold, and Xander pushed him back a step. _*Please don't lose it, Spike, please don't...let me get us out of here*_ "Come on you guys - we just defeated the Ghost of Sexual Repression and I'm thinking I need a little down-time after that."

" _Xander!_ You've got to be kidding. He's _living_ with you? He'll kill you in your sleep! He'll - steal all your towels!" 

Xander sighed, rubbing his forehead. He could feel a headache starting. "Buffy. Think. Victim of mad Professor here - I'm not going to be killed in my sleep. It wasn't safe at the crypt, and if you've been around there, you saw what the Initiative did. They're not getting their hands on him again, so yeah, he's staying with me."

"Xander, you _can't_ be serious." Buffy crossed her arms, doing her best 'I am Slayer, I know best' look, and Xander almost snarled himself.

"Serious about what, Buffy?" Willow came into the room, Riley and Giles trailing behind. Further back, in the foyer, he could see Tara and Anya, looking like the last thing they wanted to do was get involved in any more fighting. He could feel the tension rolling off Spike in waves, and he sincerely hoped the vampire could keep it under control for just a few more minutes.

"He's letting Spike live with him!" 

"He is? You are? But...why?" Willow's eyes were huge, and Xander couldn't help but think she looked like a little red-haired rabbit. 

_*Hop away and nibble somewhere else, little rabbit*_

"Like I told Buffy - it's not safe. The Initiative is going crazy - if Professor Walsh thought it would be ok to _murder_ Buffy, who knows what's on their 'to do' list for vampires? Spike can't fight the bastards off, so he's staying with me until this whole Initiative thing resolves itself."

"But - that could be weeks - months! Xander, you can't have a vampire living at your house for months!"

"Relax, Will. He's been at my house since the night they shot him with that tracer. It's fine - _I'm_ fine - let's not all have a cow, ok?"

"Giles, you talk to him! He won't listen to his friends so maybe he'll listen to you." Buffy stomped over to Riley, leaning into him, and didn't notice the look of hurt that crossed Giles' face at her comment. Xander noticed though, and felt a little sorry for the man. He liked Giles well enough - when he wasn't acting the sainted Watcher. He could _see_ Giles' days as a sorcerer - as Ripper. He knew that tweed and library books weren't all there was to Giles, and it made him angry when Giles preached duty and honor and white-hattedness. He hadn't always been on that side, and Xander wished he would stop being so...pontifical, sometimes. Xander also realized, though, that he was biased, and resolved to try very hard not to snap at whatever the man was going to say. 

Behind him, Spike was angrily lighting another cigarette - his safest outlet for frustration - and Xander just wanted to grab him and _go_ \- kiss him until he needed to breathe. 

"Buffy may have a point, Xander. While Spike may not be able to - _physically_ \- hurt you, there are still things he could do to...make things difficult."

"Standin' _right here_ , people, for fuck's sake."

"Giles - I appreciate that you're concerned, but this is the Hellmouth - _everything's_ difficult. I've got vampires and demons on the one hand, and whacked-out wanna-be secret commandos on the other. At this point, if Spike could come up with something that trumped all that, I'd be excited by the novelty. It was _your_ idea in the first place that he come stay with me, so I don't see what the big deal is. I have a headache and a five-thirty wake-up call, so I'd like to get home and get to bed. Ok?"

Giles seemed to want to say more, but he sighed and looked down for a moment instead, glasses off, thumb rubbing over his forehead as if he, too, was suffering a headache. Then the glasses were pushed back on and he looked up at Xander, some expression Xander couldn't interpret flickering across his face and gone.

"All right. I'll trust you to know what you're doing. But rest assured that I _will_ be keeping an eye out." He looked over at Spike and his expression hardened. "If anything untoward should happen to Xander, Spike, you _won't_ live to regret it."

"Hey, Giles, that's my line! But you said it real convincing -like." Buffy came back over and leaned in close to Spike. "That goes double for me, Spike."

Spike stared down at her with loathing and puffed a lung-full of smoke into her scowling, upturned face. "Try to find another way to tell me the same old story, Slayer. I'm gettin' tired of this edition." He looked over at Giles and snorted softly. "And you'd better leave the threats to the Slayer, mate - you've lost your edge." 

Buffy drew back her fist and Xander - just couldn't. Instead of letting her hit the vampire, letting her do her threat of the week, Xander stepped up and put up his arm. He wasn't really strong enough to stop her, but he startled her enough that she failed to follow through and ended rather awkwardly, her fist somewhere near Xander's shoulder, her expression one of astonishment. Xander kept his voice low and calm, knowing that if he didn't keep a lid on it he was going to explode.

"Enough Buffy. Ok? Just enough. He helped us tonight. He was part of the team, saved some lives. You don't get to hit him just 'cause he pissed you off." The silence was absolute in the room. Riley shifted uncomfortably, glancing from Xander to Buffy. Giles stared at Xander as well, and Willow looked to be near tears. 

"Are you under some sort of _spell_ , Xander?"

" _Spell?_ You think I'm under a spell because I won't let you hit someone who can't hit _back_? For God's sake, Buffy! You're the _Slayer_ , not the Torturer. White hat, and all? I'm so sick of...this. I'm so sick of it." Xander backed away from her, shaking his head, and started to walk out. The gang simply stared at him. As he walked past Riley, Xander stopped and glared at him. 

"If the Initiative pays a visit to my house, I'm gonna know who to blame. And you really don't want me to be pissed off at you right now, Riley. I'm just not feelin' the love, you know? Keep your damn jarheaded friends away from me and mine." 

He stalked out, fuming. He could hear Spike behind him, could practically _feel_ the laughter that he was sure the vampire was repressing furiously. They went past Tara and Anya, who both looked as if they'd rather be anywhere else, and went out the door. Once outside, Xander took a hard, hard breath and tried to let the anger go. He kicked viciously at a trashcan and was happy to see it bounce away across the street.

"Easy pet. Don't wanna break anythin'." Spike fell into step beside him, matching Xander's angry stride. Xander glanced over at him, wondering what would come next. Far from amused, the vampire looked serious and thoughtful. 

"Bit of a cock up, in'nit? You takin' on the Slayer for me. Could get yourself hurt, pet. She wouldn't have hurt me much."

"Don't care, Spike. I really don't care. It's enough that she _wants_ to - that she doesn't see anything wrong with it, and that neither do the others. They just don't..."

"They don't _see_ , love. I know. Not like you do. But you're gonna bring a whole world a' trouble down on your head. Best to let it go."

"I won't!" Xander rounded fiercely on the vampire, seizing his arms in a hard grip, getting in close. "It's enough, Spike. It's just… _enough_! I've been trying to keep on their 'good side', I've been trying to shrug it all off, but I can't. What she does to you - what they all do - is wrong. And it's not just because..." Xander faltered, and Spike took advantage of Xander's momentary confusion to slip his hands under Xander's shirt, sliding them up to his shoulder blades and back down.

"Because I can make you sigh my name like a prayer to heaven, love?" Spike's voice was so low, so soft. It made Xander shiver. Spike rested his forehead lightly against Xander's, rumbling with pleasure deep in his chest. Xander sighed and slid his own hands around Spike, pulling him closer until their groins brushed gently together. 

"Right. It's not just because of that. Every time they do something like that - every hypocritical, petty thing - puts its mark on them. They're staining themselves - making themselves less. And for what? So they can lord it over one vampire who can't hurt them. It's - degrading, to both of you . And I won't put up with it any more."

"My knight in patchwork armor," Spike sighed, and they moved together, kissing slow and deep and gentle; oblivious, for the moment, to everything. 

Up the street, the gang was leaving Lowell House and going home, and only Tara, habitually in the rear, habitually watching, saw the two figures in the chiaroscuro of streetlight and leaf-shadow.

 

They went home _*It is it is*_ Spike thought, and smiled to himself. His boy'd really showed them what for, tonight. Told them how he felt. Stood up for _*Me! For me!*_ the evil undead against his dearest friends. Spike felt an unaccustomed surge of pride and... 

_*Could be love. Might be.. .Did it ever feel like this with Dru? Dru was blood and lust - Absinthe and Lethe - obsession, benediction, Pandemonium. She chose me... But she never...she took more then she ever gave. She couldn't ever...care for me...*_

_*Didn't need cared for - bloody soldiers!*_

_*Yes...but...keeping me warm isn't because of the soldiers. Buying me the beer I like, lettin' me get away with 'accidentally' shreddin' the worst of his shirts, washin' my hair in the shower...none of that has anythin' to do with the soldiers. He does it because he...loves. Me. I think.*_

_*Hasn't said so*_ The demon was smug, seeming to think it had won this particular round. But Spike knew it hadn't, because _he_ hadn't said that word, either. At least not out loud. 

They walked inside, Spike immediately shedding duster and boots by the couch, Xander doing his usual routine of locking and chaining the door, then checking to see that the kitchen door was chained. Xander walked through to check the bathroom door, too _*Three doors is bloody overkill, but it's handy for those exploding-demon nights*_ and left his shoes by the bed. Dim white light from the streetlights sheened everything in gossamer-grey. 

Spike lit the candles on the kitchen table, and Xander padded barefoot back to the kitchen and got a big glass of milk. Spike watched him drink it down and noticed that Xander's hands were shaking. Spike sidled up behind him and slipped his arms around Xander's waist, his fingers burrowing up under sweater and t-shirt, then down into jeans, feeling the flex and bunch of muscle as Xander rinsed out the glass. Spike stroked the warm skin just under Xander's navel, pressing himself up tight to the mortal's back. Xander shivered, hands braced on the counter, head bent. Spike started kissing the exposed curve of his neck, going slowly from Xander's spine to the soft skin just behind his ear and then back and around to the other side. Xander sighed and shifted, pushing back, and Spike ground his pelvis into him, letting him feel the hard length of his erection. 

"Sspike..." Xander whispered, and Spike bit lightly along the top of Xander's shoulder, two, three, four little bites, and Xander pushed back harder, gasping softly. 

"Come wash my hair," Spike murmured, and Xander twisted in Spike's grip, turning to face him. His eyes were dark, the pupils dilated, and his face was flushed. Xander tugged Spike's shirt up out of his jeans and pushed the material up, exposing the vampire's chest and leaning in to run a flickering tongue over Spike's nipples. Spike pulled him closer, groin to groin, and Xander ran kisses up the vampire's throat and jaw to his mouth, making Spike shiver. They kissed slowly, lingeringly; Spike's hands down the back of Xander's jeans and Xander's hands caressing Spike's back, shoulders, ribs. 

"Come on," Spike said, and led Xander into the bathroom. As Xander skimmed out of jeans, sweater and shirt, Spike lit the candles that had become a permanent fixture in every room of the house. Xander seemed to prefer the softer, dancing light to the harsher electrics, and Spike had no objections to them. Spike drew the line at vanilla scented, though. Xander started the shower, turning the heat up. 

_*For me, see, for me he does that, don't need to do that*_ Spike stripped down quickly and they both crowded into the narrow, glassed stall. The space was tight, and they'd learned over the last week or so the best way to shower without bruising each other or knocking the flimsy 'shampoo caddy' to bits. (Spike had accidentally taken it out with an overenthusiastic elbow their second shower together.) They'd also learned that shower gel was better than a bar of soap, since it was impossible for either one of them to bend over if bar soap got dropped. Although the first time _that_ had happened, it had taken a fun few minutes figuring out what, exactly, to do. 

Now Spike pumped out a generous palm full of soap and began to rub it over Xander, a rusty grumbling sound of pleasure coming from deep in his chest. Spike loved this - the smooth skin of Xander's body was like silk, the heat of him like a furnace - like the half-forgotten sun he sometimes dreamed of. As he soaped, he let his forehead rest on Xander's, letting his lips brush the mortal's, just lightly touching. He let his tongue trace the full lower lip - slip inside the merest fraction to taste, and then out again, back to feather touches of lips on lips. 

Xander shivered under those touches, eyes closed, his arms loosely around Spike's waist, his hips moving in languid, gentle thrusts. Spike ran soap-slippery hands down Xander's back and over his buttocks - slipped his fingers between muscled cheeks and caressed the sensitive flesh there. Xander moaned a little and Spike kissed him again, deeper this time, loving the heat of Xander's tongue as it slipped into his mouth, caressing teeth and sliding over the roof of his mouth. Spike shuffled them in a slow circle, getting Xander under the spray and sluicing soap off him. Xander leaned his head back a little, getting his head wet, and then turned in Spike's arms so the vampire could rub shampoo into his hair. 

Spike maneuvered himself so that his erection was between Xander's legs, sliding it back and forth along the underside of his balls and letting the tip just trace the perineum, then pushing forward again. He slid his foam-covered hands down Xander's belly and fondled the mortal's balls, then slid his hands the length of Xander's cock. Then, more briskly, he rubbed at the soap, getting it off, and nudged Xander around again, to rinse his hair.

"We're really just way too good at this," Xander said, getting a handful of soap in his turn. "It's like we have some sort of obsessive bathing fetish."

"Hmmmmm." Spike had his eyes closed, concentrating on the delicious slip and glide of Xander's hands on his body. Xander slipped one hand down Spike's buttocks and between, probing gently, and the other slid across Spike's stomach to lazily pump once and then twice, squeezing the vampire's erection. Another slow turn, and then Xander was washing the vampire's hair, and the rumbling started again as Xander's strong, callused fingers gently teased out the gel, scrubbing Spike's scalp with his fingertips, running his hands through the length of it over and over. Spike braced his hands on the wall to either side of him and leaned back, getting every inch of contact that he could. It felt... 

_*Feels good, feels like love, feels like...*_

Xander laughed softly. "You're like petting a big cat - a snow leopard or a...Siberian Tiger. They have blue eyes. I wonder if I could make a tiger purr." 

"Not purring," Spike mumbled. "M'growling, real soft like." Xander kissed his neck. 

"Right. Growling real soft. Silly me. Come on, rinse time, or you won't have any hair left." Spike turned again and opened his eyes to watch Xander as he reached around, rinsing the shampoo out. His dark hair was plastered sleekly back, curling along his neck - getting long, something Spike was liking more and more. Xander's eyelashes were beaded with water and a little shampoo clung to his cheek, sliding down. His eyes were intent - serious - and he was holding his lower lip between his teeth as he concentrated.

"Let me do that," Spike said, and Xander looked at him 

"Do what?"

"This..." Spike leaned in and took Xander's lip between his teeth, nibbling, sucking gently, and Xander's hands faltered in his hair, gripping instead of combing.

"Ohhh..." Xander sighed into his mouth, then tugged gently at Spike's hair, pulling him back.

"Come on, we're gonna be prunes. Let's get this to the bedroom." Spike darted in for one more kiss.

"M'I all soap-free?" Xander nodded. Spike opened the door and stepped out. "Got some foam on your face, pet." Xander ducked his face under the spray and then turned the water off and they both dried quickly, neither bothering to comb their hair. Xander grabbed his toothbrush and started a quick brushing and Spike dug his lighter out of his jeans and headed into the bedroom to light a candle and spread the bed up a little. He'd dreamed, while Xander was at work, and had left the bed in a tangled mess.

 _*Nightmare. Not a dream. Soldiers and needles and...*_ Spike shook his head hard, dismissing that. Not what he wanted to think about, right now. He heard Xander rinsing his brush, finishing up, and a thought came to him. He remembered what Xander had said about novelty to the Watcher and decided they should have a little novelty tonight. He got the lube from the nightstand drawer and tossed it onto the bed.

_*Don't scare him. Nothing **too**...novel.*_ Spike saw Xander's robe draped over the foot board and snatched it up, pulling the belt free. It was long enough. He balled it up in his fist and dropped the robe as Xander came into the bedroom and walked over to him; full-body contact, hands everywhere, that hip-roll he'd learned in Oxnard, lips and teeth at Spike's throat. 

"Mmmm. Taste good," Xander murmured, licking across Spike's collarbone. Spike turned him and walked him backwards into the bed, easing him down and then using one arm to lift Xander and scoot him up higher, until they were both lying full-length, diagonal on the bed. Spike knelt over Xander's hips, pressing their cocks together. With one hand he held Xander's jaw and kissed him, sucking on his tongue, tasting every part of his mouth, trying to get the toothpaste taste out so he could just taste the boy. Xander arched under him, hands hard on Spike's hips, and Spike pulled back a little. 

"Trust me, love?" he whispered, and Xander opened his eyes, looking into Spike's, panting a little. 

"I trust you, Spike," Xander whispered. 

_*Bet he wouldn't if the soldiers hadn't - *_

_*Shut. Up. He would. He can **see** me, remember? See you, too. You wouldn't hurt him.*_

_* Wanna taste him*_ The demon was almost petulant, but Spike knew what he wanted - the blood - Xander's blood. Spike wanted it too, desperately. But he wouldn't risk this, wouldn't risk...any of this. 

Xander pinched him, both hands on his buttocks, and he blinked.

"What was that for?"

"You were off somewhere. Want you here," Xander almost pouted, and Spike laughed. 

"Just thinking about what you said tonight, pet. How you'd welcome some novelty."

"Oh. What?" Xander looked puzzled, obviously not remembering _what_ he'd said, at least not while naked under a rampant vampire, and Spike took advantage of his momentary distraction to grasp Xander's wrists and bring his arms up, over his head. Holding both easily in one hand, he quickly looped the robe belt around Xander's wrists and knotted it, then looped the other end around the corner post of the headboard, pulling the slack up until Xander's arms were stretched above his head, tight but not painful. He knotted the other end and then leaned up, settling himself on Xander's thighs, their cocks brushing together. Xander pulled instinctively against the restraint for a moment, then looked up at Spike, his eyes dark with the sudden intensification of arousal. Spike could hear Xander's heart speeding up - his body sending out a wave of scent that was heady with pheromones and need. Spike scented the air, running the tip of his tongue over his lips. His boy was so delicious - so perfect. 

"I'm gonna taste every inch of you, Xanderrr," Spike purred, wriggling a little, making Xander gasp. "Gonna taste you and touch you and put my tongue and my fingers and my cock in you but I'm not gonna fuck you until you beg for me to. Ohhh...you'll have to beg _so_ pretty - have to earn it..." Spike leaned forward, grinding a little, and Xander writhed under him, his eyes wide and his hands already clawing uselessly at the air. He was so very, very hot, so keyed up. Spike was going to make this good. 

He did exactly what he'd said - he began to lick and kiss Xander all over, starting with his mouth and moving down, across, around; tasting the salt and sweet and _*my boy my own*_ He bit lightly at Xander's nipples, then harder when he heard the need in Xander's voice, the trembling groan. He used his nails and his fingers and touched every inch, everything but the hard length of Xander's cock. He lapped, delicately as a cat, at the drops of pre-come that slid down onto Xander's stomach and he blew gently across the damp tip of his cock, watching with glittering eyes as Xander writhed and arched, throat working, moaning. Xander's hands were knotted in the belt, his legs spread wide and wanton. 

Spike moved to one side and turned Xander onto his belly, pushing his thighs so that Xander ended on his knees and elbows, legs spread wide, his cock and balls hanging heavy and exposed between his legs. Spike started licking again, neck and shoulders, spine and ribs, and Xander was panting harshly now, whispering a soft litany of pleas and curses that Spike totally ignored. As his tongue slipped down between Xander's buttocks, Spike felt him tense, and when he pushed the tip of his tongue inside Xander shuddered all over.

" _Spike_ , please, please, _oohhhh_ , I can't...want you, Spike, love, please...oh _fuck_..." Xander thrust back, fighting for more contact, and Spike pushed his tongue in deep as he could, leisurely fucking, then pulling away to mouth and suck Xander's balls. His fingers felt over the bed until they found the lube and he opened it and squeezed a dollop out onto the small of Xander's back. Then he dipped back again with his tongue, his fingers trailing lube up Xander's cock. Xander bucked, trembling, and his breathing was harsh in his throat.

"Like that, love?" Spike murmured, gathering more lube onto his fingers. 

"Love that, love that, God... _fuck...want_ you..."

"You're supposed to be begging, love," Spike whispered. He slipped his finger in, long glide, and Xander threw his head back, a low, wavering groan escaping him, his hips thrusting helplessly back at Spike. He was so ready, so close, and Spike forced himself to go slow, to make it even better. He twisted his hand, his finger probing, finding the place, and Xander's knees spread a little further apart as he tried for more and deeper, almost sobbing, his ribs heaving as he panted for breath. Another finger, gently stroking, turning, and Xander _was_ begging, babbling, his voice breathy and cracked and beautiful.

"Spike, Spike, please, need you...anything...do anything...please...make me... _in me_ , Spike please, please, _please_..." He rocked back with each gasping word, and Spike kneeled up, slicking himself, and pressed his cock against Xander, just breaching the muscle. Xander arched hard against him, his fingers digging into the mattress, his whole body shuddering. Spike didn't think Xander could last any longer. He pushed harder and was in, driving down into the luscious, clinging heat, full length in one long push. He reached up and yanked on the belt, pulling out the simple knot and freeing it from the bedpost. He grabbed Xander's shoulders and pulled him upright, then used his strength to simply _lift_ him, arms around his chest and waist, moving them both close enough to the headboard so that Xander could touch it. Xander gripped the headboard with white-knuckled hands, legs wide, thrusting frantically back into Spike as the vampire started to fuck in earnest, driving in hard and deep, angling his hips so that Xander actually yelled, a wordless exclamation of pure pleasure. 

"You are so fucking sexy, so _hot_ around me, so tight, Xanderrrr, love, so perfect..." Spike felt the demon emerge, and he couldn't help raking his fangs over Xander's throat and shoulders, his hips moving on pure instinct now as the demon drove him - drove them both. Xander pushed into the prickle of razor-sharp fangs, gasping, crying out brokenly.

"T-touch me, Spike, touch me...need...you...pl - _please_..." Spike reached down and grasped Xander's cock, a solid bar of heat, slick with strands of pre-come, pumping in rhythm with his own hips. It took only moments and Xander was arching back as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him. He cried out, wordless and hoarse. Spike could only follow him, his orgasm like ice and fire, the clenching muscles of Xander's body pulling him deeper. The demon roared its delight, and after long minutes they finally began to come down; bodies slumping forward, Xander against the headboard, Spike draped over him, bellies heaving. Xander let his head rest on Spike's shoulder and the demon's visage shifted away, Spike coming back to himself. After a few minutes Spike felt the tremble in Xander's legs and started to move away.

"No, don't. Stay in me, Spike, stay here. I want you close to me." 

"Anything, love," Spike whispered, his arms curling around the mortal, licking at the sweat on Xander's shoulder. _*Fuck he tastes good. Like everything good to eat, like blood and sweet and life ...*_

"Closer, Spike, get closer," Xander murmured, and Spike hugged him tighter. 

"Close as I can get, pet."

"Untie me, I want to touch you, Spike..." Spike quickly loosened the knot and let the belt fall away. Xander slid his hands around behind them, holding Spike's hips, pulling him closer, rubbing his hands up and down Spike's thighs, over his buttocks.

"That was...mmmm...you are so good at this...make me want you so much..."

"S'easy, pet...you're so delicious..." Spike continued to nibble and lick, reveling in the taste, in Xander's hands gliding lazily over his flesh. He reached down and picked up the robe belt and draped it over the headboard.

"Was it alright, this? Didn't hurt you ?"

"No - didn't hurt. It was - it was fucking amazing. I've never..." Xander laughed suddenly, and Spike felt it in his cock, a pleasurable ripple through Xander's body that began to rouse him again.

"I'm so clueless when it comes to this stuff," Xander turned his head a little, catching Spike's mouth, kissing him greedily, deeply.

"You're doin' fine, pet. No complaints." Spike slid his hand over Xander's cock, to his balls. He weighed them in his hand, caressed them, squeezing gently. Xander gasped a little, and clenched around Spike, his cock twitching a little against Spike's wrist.

"Ohhh. I mean... I had only - a couple of times - before Oxnard, and that was with girls..." 

"But you had ... him...for a full summer." Spike moved just a little, back and in, and felt Xander begin to harden again in earnest. 

"I was...totally inexperienced and pretty freaked out. Thomas is lucky he actually got to...uh ... fuck at all. And then...all that other stuff happened, so the last week we weren't actually doing anything, anyway. Practically a virgin." Xander was smiling and Spike kissed him. 

"Ooh, that means _I_ get to teach _you_ \- " Spike empathized his words with movement, thrusting a little harder now, "all _kinds_ of fun things."

"Aaah...Spike, God...." Xander bowed his head, pushing back, his fingernails digging into the tight muscles of the vampire's buttocks. Spike went faster, rolling his hips, knowing he was rubbing and rubbing just the right place in Xander, keeping his hand moving slow and loose, knowing the two different rhythms would drive Xander crazy. Xander thrust back and forth between the two sensations, panting again, and shivered when he felt the fangs - shivered and clenched tight around Spike.

"Spike, do you...do you want to bite me?" he whispered, and Spike froze, lips pressed to Xander's throat, just at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Xander felt the demon withdraw and moaned.

"Xander, won't hurt you, pet, promise..."

"No, Spike - I know you won't. I - if you - it'll be good, won't it? If you do that? Like the other night... _Can_ you do it? If I... Spike, if I want you to, can you?" Xander's voice was trembling, and Spike scented him, finding only lust and need, anticipation and….

_*Love, call it love, want him, so much...he can't really...*_

"Xander, why do you - why would you...offer me..."

"I trust you. I told you. Like before. I can _see_ you, Spike - I know... _please_ move,  
please..." 

Spike thrust slowly, pushing deep, stroking Xander harder now, the mortal fully aroused. He could bite - easily. But would the pain end this? He could probably ride it out... _Would_ Xander wanting it make the difference? Was he willing to even try? 

_*Do anything, anything for him. What if I can't...*_

_* **Want** it, want him*_ The demon was whining for it, deep in Spike's chest, and Spike himself was willing to try, wanting to try... He remembered how it had been, before - that brief taste of blood when Xander had cut his finger. It had been... 

_*Sweet...hot...sunlight and cool water...want it...*_

"I don't want you to be hurt, Spike, I don't. But if you can...I want you to." Xander turned his head again, kissing him, and then Spike was moving fast, fucking hard and stroking Xander as fast; bringing them to the edge, nerving himself. As he felt Xander stiffen under him, arching into the pleasure, he let the demon out, and put his mouth on Xander's body and bit. The fangs slid in easily, gently, and the sudden fiery rush of blood shocked Spike, so unaccustomed had it become. 

_*Ohhh...gods...fuck...so good, so perfect...mine, mine...*_ He groaned in ecstasy, sucking hard, and felt Xander shuddering under him, rigid in his grasp, coming so hard he seemed to not breathe at all. Spike swallowed and swallowed, the blood like sparks and ice and _*life, his life, sunlight and...*_ With a wrench he tore his mouth away. He slammed a last time into Xander's body and came also, trembling, crushing Xander to him. This time they collapsed, Spike controlling the fall so they landed on their sides, heads towards the foot of the bed, knees bent up against the pillows. Xander was gasping, his eyes closed, and Spike licked the wound on his throat - licked the last traces of blood away and watched as it stopped flowing. He tasted...something else there, too. 

_*Oh gods. I feel...*_ He buried his face in Xander's sweat-soaked hair, breathing him in. "Smell so good, Xander, taste so good..."

"Spike." Xander moved a little, weakly, as if he wanted to turn over, and Spike hugged him closer. 

"Lie still, pet, get your breath." 

"Spike - you hurt? Did it hurt?" Xander was trying to see him, and Spike lifted his head, letting Xander turn a little. He grinned down at the boy, into eyes wide and anxious and so dark, so full of emotion - emotion he'd tasted, like sparks of fire. Emotion he could hardly believe was for - _because_ \- of him.

"Not hurt a bit, pet. Not a bit. It was... "

"Fucking incredible. Felt like - like I was on fire, like every nerve in my body was being touched, like...fuck, I can't describe it..." Xander waved a limp hand and Spike laughed.

"Yeah, pet, fucking brilliant for me, too. You taste...so good. Better than anything I've ever tasted... like sunlight, like..." Spike kissed him, making a ' _yum_ ' sound, and Xander laughed.

"Score one for the junk-food diet." Xander snuggled back into Spike, getting comfortable, and they both gasped a little as Spike slipped free of his body. Spike kissed the mark again, delighting in the shiver it produced in Xander. They lay there for a moment, just resting, Spike kissing his way across Xander's shoulder and back, Xander holding Spike's hand in both of his, playing with the long fingers, picking at the nail polish a little.

"Xander. I wanted..." Spike stopped, not sure if he wanted to say what he was thinking aloud. Xander turned a little, laying on his back more so he could see Spike's face.

"What, Spike? What did you want? I think, at this point, I'd give you anything at all." 

Spike grinned at him, leaned in for a quick kiss. "No, I wanted to say... for what you did...with the Slayer an' all, standin' up for me..." 

"Spike - hush. I did...the only thing I could do. I won't let them hurt you, I won't let them belittle you just because they're afraid and you're a convenient target. You - you deserve better then that." 

Spike looked into the dark, serious eyes of the boy next to him with longing, wishing he could say - what his heart said - what he finally, irrevocably, had admitted to himself. The demon scoffed, and he himself even tried to bury it, but he couldn't The longing and fear must have shown, somehow - something was making Xander look scared, and almost tearful. Spike buried his face in Xander's neck, hugging him. 

_*I won't say that - won't do that to him. He doesn't...I'm wrong. It would only ruin everything. He'd never... *_

"Spike... I'm scared. Listen. Don't say anything, listen...oh fuck..." Xander took a hard breath, crushing Spike to him, trembling. 

"What - ?"

"No, don't, just listen...I - please, Spike, let me... I want to... I -love you, I love you..." The choked voice whispered away to silence and Xander kissed the side of Spike's neck, his cheek. Then he spoke again; whispering, urgent, the almost painful grip of his fingers in Spike's back warning the vampire not to interrupt.

"You don't have to - say anything. Don't worry about it. I just - I can't not, I have for...so long. I tried not to, I know you and D-drusilla... I can't compare...hundred years... But I had to, had to tell you. I don't - don't expect anything...I'm just here, just here, whatever you want..." This time he pushed at Spike, making the vampire meet his gaze. 

Spike stared down at him, too stunned to think, to speak. Xander's eyes were glistening bright with unshed tears that he blinked away, rubbing a quick hand over his eyes, laughing shakily at his body's betrayal. Spike leaned in close and kissed him gently, gently, so slowly. 

As he pulled away, Xander whispered, "Do you believe me?"

Spike hugged him hard. "I believe you, pet, I do. But...how can you?" Spike's voice was so low he was surprised Xander could hear him.

"I...dunno." Xander laughed softly. "I just - I have for a long time. I didn't even know it, at first. I thought about you, all the time. About the time you made that deal with Buffy - I saw you that day, putting Drusilla in your car...you loved her so much, it was so...obvious. It was confusing - Giles always said vampires couldn't love - didn't love. But it was so clear that you _did_ , and I couldn't stop thinking about that. And then when you came back...that love spell..." 

Xander kissed him softly. "Is it - alright to talk about this?" Spike could only nod, and Xander kissed him again. "You came back to get that spell and you were...devastated. I could see the hurt in your eyes...and I thought - _Giles is wrong_. And then so much happened, that last year in school - so much crap. I was hating everything and everyone here when I left for my big trip. Then Oxnard, and I...found myself...but I still only thought about you. Dreamed about you...love you..." 

Spike shivered all over, and the demon hissed in feline satisfaction, inappropriately smug. _*Knew he loved us*_

_*Did not! He...loves us...oh fuck...want to. I will*_ Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath, and tightened his grip on Xander, blue eyes locking onto brown, fearful but determined. _*Please don't let this be wrong*_

"Love you," he whispered, and Xander went utterly still, eyes widening impossibly. And then he was kissing Spike fiercely, rolling him until he was underneath, kissing and kissing until the human was gasping for breath, shaking, smiling so hard his face might crack.

"Never let you go. Never." Spike gasped, and Xander laughed aloud, pure joy.

"Loveyouloveyouloveyou... Fuck. I've wanted to say that to you - tell you that..."

"Yeah? How long - tell me again."

"Weeks. For weeks - for years. For forever."

"Don't believe _that_ , pet."

"It's true!" Xander smacked Spike lightly on the chest, grinning at him. "Dreamed about you... wished it was you in Oxnard..." Xander ducked his head, then looked back up at Spike. "And don't think that didn't really fuck with my head, either, when I woke up next to my boyfriend with a raging hard-on because I'd had this sexy dream starring this sexy blonde vampire..."

"You're windin' me up, mate. You never."

"I did. It made things...very surreal. But don't worry. I was in really deep denial." Xander laughed again, and kissed him, then began to lever himself up, groaning.

"Fuck, I'm sore, I'm totally wiped out, I need another shower...all I want to do is lie here and kiss you..." He paused in the act of moving away from Spike to kiss him; lips, collarbone, chest.

"Come back then, love..."

"No, no, got to be Responsible Guy. Got to earn the big bucks so I can...keep my vampire." Xander grinned down at him.

"I've _got_ money, Xander - you know you can have it."

"I know - I mean, I saw, and don't think I'm not going to hit you up from time to time, but... I have people counting on me. And it's - a good thing. You know? I can't let Manny down." Spike saw the happiness in Xander's face, the pride. Saw, too that Xander wanted him badly to understand - to accept. 

_*Probably never had anybody give a fuck about him before - never had a job worth a toss or anybody who noticed if he was there or not. And now, he's so unhappy with his mates ...means everythin' to him ...*_ "I'm a selfish bastard, pet, and I'd tie you to the bed if I thought I could and keep you happy. It's alright." 

Xander stroked Spike's hand where it lay on his thigh, and stood up, shaky. "Damn, gotta start takin' vitamins. Come on, I'll wash your hair again." He made his way into the bathroom and Spike lay on the bed for another moment, grinning madly to himself in the low, glowing light of the candle. 

_*Gotta tell him it's over with Dru. Gotta tell him...gotta explain. But later. Tomorrow. He loves me.*_ Spike bounced up off the bed and into the bathroom. Xander opened the shower door and gathered him in.


	7. Debt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oz now enters the story! And just so everyone knows, he is here to stay. :)

Xander dragged himself, groaning, to work the next two days. He wanted nothing more than to stay home with Spike, but he knew he couldn't. On Wednesday he was actually secretly grateful that there'd been some sort of screw-up _*By them and not us, thank God*_ that made work almost impossible. 

The required supplies were wrong - and not enough - and _damaged_ for fuck's sake, and Manny was looking daggers at the delivery guys who could only shrug and shuffle around, unable to fix the problem themselves but bearing the brunt of it. Eventually - around eleven - Manny just threw his hands into the air and sent everyone home. Xander stayed an extra hour, helping Manny get the right stuff organized for the next day, checking the site, getting the delivery guys packed up and out of there. He felt Manny's frustration but relished the idea of being home with Spike instead. Two more days until the weekend, so this would be a nice break. 

He drove home, humming along with _Aerosmith_ on the radio. Once there he moved as quietly as he could, leaving his boots and tool belt by the door, walking barefoot to the bedroom. Spike was curled into Xander's side of the bed, buried in covers, and Xander started to smile before he realized something wasn't quite...right. Instead of the normal near-motionless figure Xander had gotten used to, Spike was twitching and writhing in his sleep, small sounds of unhappiness coming out of him. Xander moved to the bed, crouching down next to him and reaching out hesitantly to stroke the tangled blond hair.

"Spike?" he whispered, and the vampire twisted away, giving voice to a moaning, keening cry that made the hair stand up on Xander's neck. He smoothed the vampire's hair again, then moved his hand to Spike's shoulder, shaking him gently. "Spike - wake up," he said, a little louder. 

And then - a blur, _pain_ \- and Xander found himself rolling hard into the dresser, thud of his back and shoulder into the wood, sharp ache in his jaw. Dazed, he looked up at Spike who was... 

_*Where the hell is he? Okay, what the fuck - I touched his shoulder, he jerked away - **hit** me, then...*_ A sound caught his attention, and he scrambled up onto the bed and over, and saw Spike. Tight against the wall, hands around his head, moaning in agony now. 

_*Oh fuck, oh **damnit** , that damn thing... He hit me, having a nightmare - fucking thing... Sorry, Spike, sorry, sorry, should have ...*_ Xander stopped himself from reaching out again, watching Spike. The vampire was silent now, but still huddled - half asleep maybe. He didn't seem to realize where he was.

"Spike? Hey, Spike. Wake up, ok? You're safe...safe at home... " Xander couldn't help himself - he reached out again, touching the bowed head, and Spike moved fast, _away_ , scrabbling into the corner and getting trapped between the wall and the bed, panic wrenching a sound from him, inarticulate, terrified. Spike's head rapped the wall sharply and he froze, eyes open finally, staring around him wildly. 

"W-won't," he whispered, and then seemed to _see_ Xander, and he frowned. "Xan ..."

"Spike, wake up now - you're safe here - home, okay? It's just you and me here, Spike - you hear me? You awake?" Xander didn't move, and Spike scrubbed his hands over his face, pushing them back through his disordered hair, head down for a minute, shaking.

"Come on, Spike, come back up here, let me warm you up," Xander said, and Spike looked at him - really _looked_ this time, and finally, finally he moved, unfolding from his huddle and moving shakily up onto the bed. Xander pulled the quilt free and wrapped it around them both, trapping the heat in with them, pulling Spike half into his lap and just holding him, stroking his back and murmuring softly to him. 

"It's alright love, no one but us, won't let anything hurt you, it's alright, I've got you, just you and me love, safe, you're safe..." Spike's arms were almost painfully tight around Xanders' ribs, his face in Xanders' neck and soft pants of breath still coming from him. Xander felt the trembling body gradually still, and he kissed the messy hair, Spike's forehead; stroked his shoulders and back and hugged him tight. Suddenly Spike jerked away, blue eyes frantic and wide.

"I hit you - Xander, fuck, I - "

"It's all right. Didn't hurt much. I startled you, it's ok..." Xander soothed, but Spike was trying to get away from him, pushing him back.

"It's _not_ all right! Bloody hell, I could have - "  
"You didn't. You won't. It's _okay_. Spike - look at me!” Xander managed to grab Spike's hands in one of his, put his other to the vampire's cheek, stilling him, making the blue eyes meet his own. 

Spike's mouth trembled, then firmed, and he ducked his head. "I _could_ hurt you. Xander, I can't - "

"It was just a nightmare, Spike. You didn't do anything on purpose. You have those a lot?" Xander gently chaffed the chilled hands between his own, and Spike sighed and leaned his shoulder into Xander's chest, resting his head on the boy's shoulder.

"Sometimes. They're just...just the soldiers, you know?"

"The Initiative? I thought..." Xander stopped and bit his lip, and Spike looked up at him. 

"Thought what, pet?" 

"I...just thought...they did that, put that thing in you, and you escaped... I... I'm just being stupid." 

"Xander - " Spike sat up, looking straight into the mortal's eyes, frowning. "You're not stupid. Tell me." Xander looked away, then sighed. 

"It's not like that - thing - isn't enough to give you nightmares, but I guess I just thought...that's _all_ they did. You know? And...it's not, is it?" Now Spike looked away, not willing to admit to exactly _what_ had happened, not willing to admit how much the soldiers - the scientists - had scared him. Still scared him. Xander could see it in his eyes, in the rigid set of his shoulders. 

_*Oh God, **what**_ did they do to him, something awful, nothing scares him, but here he is having nightmares, damnit, **damnit**...*

"Fuck. I should have known. Bastards. I'm gonna _do_ something to Riley, I'm gonna..."

"No, Xander." Spike took Xander's face gently in his hands, leaned in and kissed him, lingeringly. "Anything done to those fuckin' bastards is done by me, right? You don't get your hands dirty with them, not ever. Not you." They kissed again, and Xander hugged him close. 

_*Fuck that, Harris. We'll settle 'em, you'll see*_ The hyena growled in agreement, and Xander had to fight the urge to laugh aloud. He wondered if everyone had multiple personalities urging them to homicide. 

"What're you doin' home, anyway? It's not that bloody late, is it?"

"Screw up at the site - delivery all wrong and we couldn't do any work, so Manny sent us home. Which is good, because I get to get back in bed with this sexy blonde..." Xander pushed Spike flat, kissing him, neck and chest and shoulders, and Spike pulled at his clothes, trying to strip him.

"Get 'em off, pet, gonna fuck you..." Xander flung the quilt away and stripped, letting Spike take control, letting him vent his stress with kisses and bites, long licks and strong, mobile hands. Despite his initial frenzy, Spike entered Xander in a slow, controlled glide, and then simply lay over him, rocking slowly, kissing him again and again. They lay in near silence, the only sounds panting breaths, small sighs, low moans of pleasure. 

_*Ohhh, want this forever, want him forever...no more nightmares, I'll fix that, I will...*_

"Sspike, love you..." Xander whispered, and the vampire gasped, surging against him, hands burrowed under his shoulders and holding him like the most precious of things. 

"Love you, pet, love you..." Xander felt himself trembling on the edge of orgasm, nearly there, and he turned his head, exposing his throat, silently urging Spike to take him. Spike made a low sound, desperate need, and he leaned down and let the demon out. The fangs slid effortlessly home in Xander's neck and Xander shuddered, writhing. As Spike took the first sip of his blood Xander arched into silent, trembling orgasm, gasping, pulling Spike as close as he could. Spike drank, small mouthfuls, two and then three and then he pulled away, gliding his tongue over the marks, and Xander whimpered. A hazy thought swam through his brain, and he nuzzled in close to Spike - kissed and then bit gently on the vampire's neck - bit harder when he felt Spike shiver, and then hard as he could, tasting Spike's skin and... _*blood, that's blood, oh*_

Spike was coming, thrusting into him, calling his name in a broken voice. Gradually, they were still again, and Xander felt as if he'd run a marathon. His whole body tingled, and he was pleasantly limp. He licked his lips, tasting metal and salt and...something rich, delicious.

"Spike!"

"Hrmmm? Xan, what?" Spike mumbled, drowsy and unmoving.

"I bit you!"

"Know that, love. Was good." Xander pushed at him, making him lean up, and Spike looked down at him, eyes half-shut. "What, pet?"

"I mean, there's blood - I drew blood."

"Yeah? You - ok with it? I mean, wasn't too bad, was it?" 

Xander ran his tongue over his lips, then he grinned. "Nope. It was - great. Tingly. Tasted...good. Huh. Never thought I'd say that. I didn't hurt you, did I?" Xander eyed the bite - messier then what Spike had done to him, slightly swollen. It looked sore.

"No worries, pet. Had lots worse in the throes of passion. It was just right." Spike dipped his head down and licked over his own mark on Xander's shoulder, and Xander shivered. It was like lightning and fire going through him, sharp and hot, shivery. It made arousal stir in him, and a fierce want. He tightened his arms around Spike and they both lay there, unwilling to move. 

Spike gradually fell asleep again, it being the middle of his night, and Xander shifted him a little and managed to get the quilt up over the both of them. Then he, too, drifted - dozing on and off, waking again and again to kiss or caress the silken, milky skin. 

_*Love, this is love, love him. ..how can he love me? Don't care how... just want him, need him...don't care... I'll take what he'll give me, for however long...don't care...*_

 

Xander drifted for a couple of hours, but eventually he had to get up and decided to take a shower. Afterwards, he dressed in faded jeans and an old, holey sweater. He looked at Spike, lying loosely curled in the bed, and reached out and smoothed the pale hair with one hand. Then he carefully took the blue jay feather from its place in the edge of the mirror over the dresser. It was tucked in just above the picture of Spike that Drusilla had taken, and Xander touched the photo, smiling softly. Then he slipped out of the bedroom and through the kitchen, and went outside. 

The sun was hovering a hand-span above the sea, the light thick and still, a bloody amber. Xander hesitated, then walked down the steps and stood in the grass. He looked at the feather, and then shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. He pictured Jack in his mind; mop of black hair, coat of velvet or leaves or denim - wicked smile, eyes like coals. 

_*Jack. I need you. You said you'd come whenever I called - I'm calling. Calling in the debt. Jack Green ...*_ The feather seemed to tremble in his fingers and he opened his eyes. A sudden wind - cool, salt-tanged - gusted up from the west and straight into Xander's face. The feather spun free of his fingers and flew up, corkscrewing higher and higher until it seemed to wink out of sight in the darkening sky. The wind ebbed - faded away altogether - and Xander shivered. Jack was coming.

He went back inside to find Spike just coming out of the bedroom, naked, looking slightly apprehensive. 

"Hey, Spike."

"Xander...been outside?" Spike came over to him and kissed him, hands on Xander's hips.

"Yeah - it's nice out. You hungry?" 

Spike nodded - kissed him again. "Gonna take a shower, pet."

"Okay. I'm gonna make some...spaghetti or something. Won't take long ."

"Hmmmm." Spike smiled, burrowing into Xander's neck for a moment, taking a deep breath. "You smell nice." He broke away and headed for the bathroom, and Xander watched him walk out, making the appropriate wolf-whistle. Spike laughed.

By the time Spike was done showering, Xander had sauce heated on the stove and the pasta boiling. A mug-full of blood sat in the microwave, ready to be heated. He lit the big candle they had on the kitchen table and leaned against the counter, watching the pasta. He felt it again - that strange little tingle. 

_*Jack. Wonder when he'll get here.*_ Xander stirred the pasta and got a glass of milk. Tonight - movies, or maybe there was a match on the TV that Spike wanted to watch. Or maybe...they would talk. Or not. Xander didn't want to tell Spike what he was planning. 

_*What're the odds this'll work, Harris? You have to tell him.*_

_*Don't want to. I want to talk to Jack first*_

_*Not nice, Harris.*_

Xander turned the radio on, to drown out the soldier, and listened to piano and horns and the rich voice he was slowly coming to recognize - Louis Armstrong. 

_"Give me your lips for just a moment... And my imagination will make that moment live …_  
_Give me what you alone can give... A kiss to build a dream on..."_

Xander was starting to like this music. It was all Manny ever played, these soft songs and tunes from the 'war years' as he called them, and they lent a certain calm to the site that could sometimes be utter chaos. Xander stirred the pasta again and decided it was done. He hunted out the lid to the pot and carefully dumped the water, only spilling a little pasta down the drain.

"There has to be a better way," Xander muttered. He was sure there _was_ , he just couldn't remember what his mom had done. Hanging out in the kitchen when she had done her sporadic cooking had not been a good idea.

"Better way for what, pet?" Spikes voice, sand and honey, and Xander flashed him a quick smile. 

"Oh, this whole draining thing. I'm sure there's a better way but, you know, I don't come from a long line of chefs or anything." 

" 'Course there's a better way, love. " Spike said, and shot Xander a truly lascivious look, flashing his fangs. Xander made an exaggerated 'ha ha' laugh, and Spike shrugged, grinning, passing through to the living room for his cigarettes. He'd only pulled on his jeans, and there were still drops of water glittering on his back. Xander watched him walk past. 

_*Ah, fuck. How m'I supposed to concentrate on food when I've got THAT sitting across from me?*_

"Can't help you, pet. Never done much cooking, me."

"Why doesn't _that_ surprise me?" Xander called after him. He put the pasta pot back on the stove, turned the burners off and got out plates. He heard Spike's Zippo flick open, and watched through the pass through as he lit the half-dozen candles they kept in the living room. Then Spike lit his cigarette and came back, trailing smoke, to start his blood heating while Xander got a plateful of food and sat down. Then stood back up to grab bread and butter and his milk. After a minute Spike joined him, and they ate and drank in companionable silence, listening to Les Brown and Duke Ellington, Buddy Holly and June Christy. Spike drank his human blood - he tended to space six or so pints out during the course of the day - but then heated up a cupful of the stuff from the butchers to pour over his spaghetti. Xander just watched in amusement as he sucked up noodles, making a mess.

"Jeez, you're not so much 'Creature of the Night' as 'Pig of the Night'. Have a paper towel." Spike snatched the towel and wiped at his mouth, then reached over and took Xander's bread-and-butter. "Hey!" 

"That's what you get for makin' derogatory comments about my oral skills." Spike looked up at him from under long lashes, eyebrow cocked, and Xander choked a little on his mouthful. He knew _exactly_ what 'oral skills' Spike was alluding to.

"Speaking of 'oral skills'..."

"Yeah, love ?" Spike murmured, and Xander felt his cock stirring . 

_*How does he do that, drop his voice down so low, make it so...damn...hot*_ "Uhhh..." Spike smirked at him, and Xander sat bolt upright as he felt a lean, wriggling foot insinuate itself into his crotch and stroke his growing erection.

"You were sayin' somethin', Xanderrr,?" Spike purred, and Xander closed his eyes, taking a long breath. 

"Mmmm..." Spike's other foot was suddenly there, rubbing and kneading in concert with the first, and Xander let his fork clatter to the plate and just slumped back in his chair. 

_*No point in trying to talk...*_

Xander was just beginning to wonder - in a hazy, half-coherent way - about how to get his jeans off without losing contact with Spike when the feet pulled away. Xander opened his eyes to see Spike sitting straight up, looking towards the door.

"Wha - "

"Somebody's here." Xander's heart skipped in his chest, and he sat up as well, his mouth going dry and his erection subsiding unhappily.

"Do you know - who it is?" 

Spike cocked his head to the side, listening, then relaxed fractionally. "Watcher and Red and the blonde. Red's...cryin'." Xander looked at him and Spike nodded, pushing back his chair. 

"Damn," Xander muttered, getting up as well, and Spike caught his arm, pulling him close for a quick kiss. 

"I'll finish with you later," he murmured, and Xander snagged him back for one more kiss, deep and hard, before turning to the front door. 

Just as he reached it, someone knocked, and Xander could hear Giles' voice, saying something. He undid the chain and opened the door, and Giles, Willow and Tara looked in at him; Willow pale and teary, Tara just pale, and Giles thin-lipped in anger or fear.

"Willow - you okay?" Xander stepped back, ushering them in, and saw Spike in the doorway of the living room _*thank God he grabbed a shirt*_ , cigarette in his mouth, fingers dipping into his jeans for his lighter. Willow and Tara sat on the couch, huddled together, and Giles stood near the bookshelves, arms folded, looking around at the candle-lit room with an expression of bafflement. Xander perched on the couch arm.

"Xander! What happened to your face!" Willow's eyes were huge and she reached towards his jaw. 

"Huh?" _*Spike - nightmare - remember? Must have bruised*_ "Oh - I kinda forgot. New kid on the site, he got a little clumsy with a board. No big deal. Now tell me Willow - what's the matter? What's happened?"

"It's Oz - " Willow started, voice shaky, just as Giles said, "Don't light that in here, Spike." 

Xander looked over at Spike, who lit his cigarette and snapped his Zippo shut, glaring at Giles. 

"Giles," Xander said, turning to the older man _*calm, stay calm*_ "this is my house. He can smoke in here if he likes." 

Giles stared at him, eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses, and then he looked away. "Very well."

"Go on Willow, what about Oz. Is he back?"

"He - he came back yesterday. We were up all night talking, Xander, just - talking, and...and he's been in Tibet, he met these monks and they showed him - showed him how to control the wolf. It was wonderful, Xander! We were outside under the full moon and he wasn't going all _grrr_ and everything. B-but then, today at school he - " Willow stopped, gulping, and Xander felt ice in his belly. 

"He what, Willow? Tell me." Xander slid off the couch and crouched at the girls' feet. 

It was Tara who spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I-i-it was me. He s-saw me and thought - I w-was W-willow, he said hhe could s-smell her, and then he - ch-changed. He told me to r-rrun, and I did but he ch-chased me." She swallowed, looking at Willow, who gripped her hand and nodded, rubbing at tear-streaked cheeks. "I r-ran into this cl-cl-classroom and then these - ss-soldiers came - "

"Bloody hell, " from Spike, who started pacing.

"Soldiers? The Initiative? They grabbed Oz?"

"Th-they shot him w-with a d-dart gun - I t-t-tried to t-tell them - "

"It's ok, Tara, it's not your fault they didn't listen." Willow took Tara's hand and squeezed it gently, then looked at Xander, her eyes wide and red-rimmed, terrified and angry.

"They just dragged him away, Xander! And he isn't dangerous any more, he can control it, he showed me! Riley told Buffy - one of the soldiers got killed last night by some big demon or something and they think it was Oz but it wasn't! We were together all night, he was telling me about his trip - "

"Ok, Willow, it's ok. I believe you if you say he didn't do it...where's Riley? "

"We don't know! " Willow wailed, and Tara clutched her hand. "We've been driving around trying to find any of them - any of the soldiers. Do you think he'll make them let Oz go? I mean, once they see it's Oz?" Willow's eyes were full of hope, but Xander shook his head.

"We can't count on Riley for anything, Willow - he's one of them. What about Buffy?"

"She is also trying to find Riley. She was going to go on campus and see if any of the soldiers were about. But they all seem to have - vanished, tonight." Giles spoke up from behind him, and Xander stood up, turning to look at him. "We may have to force our way into the Initiative headquarters."

"Damnit. How long - I mean, how long has she been trying? Shouldn't she have - " The phone rang _*thank God*_ and Xander walked fast to it, snatching it up.

"Buffy?"

"I can't find anybody, Xander. We're going to have to go in there - "

"Ok. Listen - head back to Giles' house. We'll meet you there, figure something out. What about Riley?" Buffy hesitated, and Xander felt the ice in his belly getting bigger, making him feel slightly sick.

"I can't get him, Xander. He's not - answering. Just - get to Giles' house fast, ok?"

"Ok. See you there."

"See you. Xander...thanks."

"Sure, Buff. No problem." Xander hung up, turning to face Willow. Willow and Tara had stood up, clutching anxiously at each other, and Giles was rubbing his forehead.

"What'd she say? Can she find anybody?"

"She can't, Willow. We're gonna meet her at Giles' house, figure out - how to get in there." Xander stepped up closer to her - put his hand out and gently touched her cheek. "It's gonna be okay, Willow. We'll figure this out. We'll get Oz out." Willow smiled shakily at him, gripping Tara's hand, and Xander turned to Giles.

"Will you take the girls back to your house? I'll follow in a minute - "

" _We'll_ follow, Harris." Xander snapped his head around to stare at Spike, who was leaning nonchalantly on the doorway, cigarette in his hand. But Xander could see the tension around his eyes - could see the slight shake of his hand that he tried to disguise by rolling the cigarette, lifting it to his mouth.

"What? No, no _we_ , Spike. No way."

"Xander - "

"He's _not going_ , Giles -"

"Harris." Spike said, and his voice was cold and level and dead calm. Xander narrowed his eyes at him. Spike made a jerk of his head, indicating the kitchen, and pushed away from the doorjamb, walking to the kitchen door. Xander followed, fists clenched. 

_*No, no, **no** , Spike, not gonna let you get near there, not gonna risk you, I'm **not**... *_ "Spike - " he hissed, the minute he was close, and Spike shot a quick glance over Xander's shoulder at the girls and Giles. 

"Xander, love, I know a way in. A - back door, like. How I got out last time." Spike kept his voice low and even, but his pupils were dilated so far his eyes seemed black. 

" _No_ , Spike. You can't - I won't risk you getting caught again. Who fuckin' knows what they'll do this time - " 

"I'm going with you, Xander. You're not going in there with just the Slayer - she never watches out for you. I know how to get in, I'll help you. You just - keep 'em off me, okay? I trust you, Xander." Surreptitiously, he put his hand on Xander's chest, rubbing a small circle there. 

"Spike...fuck..." Xander wanted to hit something. In frustration, he grabbed up the dirty dishes, jamming them into the sink and then leaning there, gripping the sink-edge in a death grip. 

"Xander - we need to hurry." Giles from the living room, his hand on Willow's shoulder, his face set and angry. 

"Damnit. Okay. _Okay_. But Spike - " Xander spun around to face him, anger and helplessness and fear plain on his face. He dropped his voice down low again. "You don't take _any_ chances - keep close to me and just - damnit." 

"I got it, mate. You too. C'mon now, you're makin' the Watcher nervous." Spike stared back at him, his facade perfectly calm and emotionless, and Xander shook his head. 

"Yeah. Okay. Will you - get the candles in the other room, please?" 

"No problem, pet." He went away into the living room, and Xander stood there a minute, trying to collect himself. _*What about Jack?*_

"Damnit," he whispered, thinking frantically. He undid the chain on the kitchen door and made sure the deadbolt was unlocked. Then he grabbed a clean plate and fork and put them on the table with one of Spike's beers. The bread was already on the table and Xander stared at it for a moment. The candle was in a glass jar.... 

_*Should be safe... Salt!*_ "Right," he muttered, grabbing the salt off the stove and putting it with the bread. Should do it. _*Please be here when we get back. Jack - you're welcome here, please wait for us...*_

"Ready mate?" Spike called, and Xander hurried through to him, catching the vampire's puzzled look. 

"Tell you later," he whispered, grabbing his keys out of Spike's hand. He hastily stuffed his feet into the work boots he'd left by the door, not bothering to do up the laces. Spike already has his own boots and the duster on, cigarette clenched in his teeth. Giles and the girls were on the porch, and they walked quickly to the vehicles. 

"Uh, Xander ? What's with all the candles in there?" Willow was looking at him strangely as Giles unlocked his car. Tara seemed to be smiling behind her hair. 

"What? Oh - uh, saves on the electric, you know? 'Sides, I like it better." 

"Oh. Sure. Electric." Willow nodded as Tara tugged her into Giles' car. Giles backed out and drove away, tires squealing slightly, and Spike and Xander got into Xander's truck. As Xander pushed the key into the ignition, Spike grabbed him and pulled him into a hard, passionate kiss, stealing his breath and squeezing his ribs painfully tight. 

"Love you, love you," Spike gasped, and Xander kissed him back. 

"Love you. _Damnit_ , I hate this. Don't get hurt, Spike, don't let them _near_ you, run if you have to, just...." 

"It'll be ok, love. Promise." 

Xander looked into the wide eyes, the sharply planed face so close to his own. _*Beautiful, he's so beautiful...can't lose him...*_ "Okay, Spike. Okay." They drove in silence, Spike's hand resting on his on the gear-shift. 

_*Fuck. Hate this place. Stinks. Rotten blood and death and disinfectant and fear...*_ Spike clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stride - to _strut_ \- behind the Slayer and Xander. No way was he going to show any fear - any weakness. He was a Master in his own right, and military hardware or no, he would not cringe or cower. Ever. 

_*Even in this bloody soldier get-up. "Evil olive", my arse.*_

Up ahead, Buffy kicked her way into a room and a moment later emerged with an older, paunchy soldier - obviously an officer. 

"Riley's in the brig. We'll get him first." Buffy looked determined, and Spike didn't miss Xander rolling his eyes. Spike could clearly see the sweat on Xander's face, the lines of tension around his mouth. 

_*Stay calm, pet. We'll be in and out in no time. Get Red's wolf and gone. Calm, yeah. Need a bloody smoke*_ Spike felt his pockets for cigarettes and then cursed when he realized he'd left them in his duster. Xander glanced over at him and he shrugged, scowling. The officer - Colonel somebody - directed Buffy down a side corridor and they waited there while she ghosted around the corner, intent on getting her soldier-boy. 

_*Stupid bitch. Should get the wolf and go. Captain Cardboard can get his own arse out of this - these are his mates. If she left him here maybe they'd execute him. Save us all some trouble*_

The Colonel shifted nervously and Xander poked him with his rifle, looking ready to blow. 

"So what'd this Riley do, eh? Why'd you lock him up?" Spike asked, trying to distract Xander, make him ease up. 

"He betrayed his command," the Colonel said stiffly, eyeing Spike with poorly concealed distaste. 

"What's that mean?" Xander asked, looking down the corridor where Buffy had gone. 

The Colonel looked Xander up and down, frowning. "He tried to help an HST escape. That's a court-marshaling offence. Why are you helping these hostiles, son?" The Colonel sounded as if he were making an effort to be paternal towards Xander, and the demon reacted instantly. 

Spike snarled, vamping out and lunging at the Colonel, who jerked away into the wall. Spike got up close to him, snapping his fangs in his face. 

"You mean a hostile like this?" Xander got close to the Colonel on his other side, looking from Spike to the soldier. "I'm helping because the 'hostile', as you call him, is my friend. And because I happen to be fucking _this_ one." The Colonels' eyes bugged, and Spike hissed at him, dropping back into his human face and planting a quick kiss on Xander's mouth. 

"Ta, love," he whispered, and then spun around as Buffy and Riley came around the corner.

"Let's go," Buffy said. "He's being held down here." They quick-marched, silent, Buffy keeping her crossbow trained on the Colonel, her other hand knotted in his shirt. 

*Oh, my boy, you're gonna get a niiice reward for that bit of bravado back there.* Trailing behind, Spike managed to reach out and let his fingers rest lightly on Xander's wrist for a moment. Xander shot him a quick grin, and then they were in that place - that corridor. 

Glass-fronted cages, with demons and vampires pacing or huddled or snarling from within. Spike shivered, and the demon roared, fighting to emerge, to rend and destroy. 

_*Back off, back off, can't do anything, just back off, get the wolf and out...bloody hell, smells the same, looks the same...fuck*_

Spike could feel his fingers denting the stock of the rifle he held. Xander shot a look of concern at him and then they stopped, because there was the wolfling, huddled and naked, and more soldiers surrounding them, holding their weapons in a confused mess of level and not, obviously unsure of what to do. Buffy yanked the Colonel closer, holding her crossbow up to his head. 

Spike watched as Oz looked up, recognizing Buffy and then Riley, his eyes flicking over to Xander and then coming to a stop on Spike, widening in surprise. Spike nodded fractionally at him, glancing around again and again at the soldiers. 

_*Come on, people, come on, the longer we fuck around the more bloody time they've got to figure out how to fuckin' stop us. What'll I do if they attack? If I shoot when Xander does, will this bloody chip know if I hit anyone? Bloody fucking **hell** \- what is she babbling about, William Burroughs? Christ, Slayer, just shut up*_ One of the soldiers walked cautiously forward and used his key-card to open the cell door. Oz stood slowly, the bruises, cuts and burns on his body clearly evident, and Spike heard Xander whisper. 

_"Fucking bastards.”_

Oz walked out, shying away from the soldier, and Riley and Buffy both looked shocked - and embarrassed. Spike saw how Buffy was looking everywhere but at Oz and finally realized that it was because Oz was naked. 

_*Not the time for bloody scruples you miserable...*_ Spike took three quick steps up to the soldier who'd opened the door and grabbed his shirt.

"Get him his clothes, you bastard," he hissed. Oz had sunk down onto his haunches again, shivering, and Spike crouched down in front of him, watching the soldier go to a locker at the end of the hall, fumbling with the latch.

"You all right, wolfling?" Spike asked, and Oz rubbed a trembling hand over his face. 

"All right enough to get out of here," Oz whispered. His voice was a ruined husk, and he winced, swallowing hard. 

"Soon be free, mate. Here." Spike pulled his flask out of his back pocket and unscrewed the top, then handed it to Oz. Oz sniffed, eyebrows going up, then he took a long drink, grimacing as the alcohol stung his throat. Spike could see blood on the corners of his lips.

"F-fuck." Oz coughed a little, and rubbed his hand over his lips. Spike took the flask back and stood up as the soldier approached with a wad of clothes. Oz struggled into jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, ill-fitting clothes that were obviously not his. He didn't bother with the socks or sneakers. He nodded to Spike and they both went over to Xander. Xander put his hand on Oz's shoulder, gently, and looked inquiringly at him. Oz nodded, and Xander stepped back, assured Oz was all right enough for now. 

Buffy started backing up, taking the Colonel with her. They backtracked to a bank of elevators, and Spike felt relief wash over him as they crowded in. The elevator doors closed on the soldiers furious faces, and they rode up in silence. The doors opened again in Lowell House, and Spike snarled. 

_*Should burn this place to the fucking ground*_

Oz stepped out quickly, limping, and Xander and Spike followed. Riley seemed to want to say something to the Colonel, and since the Slayer was staying with him, Spike was happy to go ahead and leave them to it. They got out of Lowell house fast, making their way across the campus towards where Xander had parked his truck. Oz staggered, breathing hard, and Spike could smell blood and exhaustion and fear rolling off him - and rage. The wolf-smell was strong, and Oz kept snapping his teeth, growling a little, obviously fighting for control. Spike touched Xander's arm, gesturing towards a patch of deep shadow. Xander frowned but followed when Spike took Oz's arm and pulled him into the darkness. 

"Come down here," Spike whispered, crouching down, and they did. Oz was shaking hard, hands clenched in the loose folds of the sweatshirt, his eyes utterly black. Xander looked nervous, and Spike could smell fear from him, and worry.

"Wolfling - listen mate. You've got to calm down. You can't be wolfin' out on me and the boy here. You're out now - safe, alright?" Spike reached to touch his shoulder and Oz shivered, gasping. Xander moved close in on his other side, and slid an arm around Oz, pulling him close.

"Oz, it's okay. Spike's right. Willow said - you learned something from some monks? Try it - use it. We've got to get out of here, okay?" 

Spike watched as Oz tried to slow his breathing, his eyes wide and still scared, the wolf-scent pouring off him. He reached blindly and clutched at Spike's sweater and suddenly his face was against Spike's chest and he was crying - gasping, choking sobs that shook his slight frame. Spike looked up at Xander, meeting his helpless gaze, then he just folded Oz into his arms, pulling him and Xander both close, holding the shaking, coughing boy to him while Xander crooned something into Oz's ear, rubbing his back, rocking him a little. The three of them huddled there, long minutes, until finally Oz came out of it. The dreadful gasps eased off and faded away, and he finally sat back, rubbing at his face; still shaking but the tremors less, now. His eyes were human again, and he reached out and gently cupped Xander's face in one hand, Spike's in the other. His hand was cold, sticky with tears, smelling of disinfectant and blood.

"Th-thanks. I'm okay now, guys." His voice was so strained and cracked the Spike winced to hear it, and Xander shushed him immediately.

"Don't talk, Oz. It's okay. Come on, let's get you to Giles' house. Willow's going out of her mind worrying about you - " Xander stopped as Oz clutched at him, shaking his head.

"What, wolfling?" 

"Can't. Not there. Please?" 

Spike looked up at Xander, baffled, but Xander looked as if he understood. "You don't want to go to Giles' house?" Oz nodded, his lip trembling, and Xander rubbed his shoulder. "Okay. It's okay. You can - you can come to my house. You'll be safe there - Riley doesn't know where I live, and you'll be safe. Okay?" 

Oz sighed in relief, nodding.

"Right then, let's get a bloody move on. Gotta get away from these bloody soldiers." 

They walked faster now, Oz still limping but doing better. They got to Xander's truck and piled in, Oz in the middle, huddled and miserable. As they drove slowly off campus, Oz suddenly straightened, pointing. 

"What is it, Oz?" Xander asked, slowing even more. Oz pointed again, and Spike saw a zebra-striped van, parked in the back of a student lot. "Oh, hey - your van. Want to get it?" Oz nodded, and Xander drove over to it. 

Spike thought furiously, wanting to avoid Giles' house as much as Oz did. "Xander - listen. Why don't me an' the wolfling take his van and get home. You go over to the Watchers an' explain everything. They'll wanna know what happened, anyway, and if I try an' tell 'em anything all I'll get is arguments and threats." 

Xander sighed, looking at his hands, then up at Spike. "Yeah - you're right. Fuck. Okay. Just - be careful. Don't attract any attention. 'Cause I'm bettin' _you_ don't have a drivers license or an I.D. of any kind." Xander tried to look stern, but Spike could see the little smile that played around his mouth.

"Right, mate. Come on, wolfling, you got an extra key for that?" They climbed out of the truck and Spike slid his rifle under the seat. Oz felt under a wheel well for a moment, finally pulling out a spare key in a little magnetic box. He opened the back door and climbed stiffly in, then handed the key to Spike. Spike shut the door and walked over to the truck, leaning in Xander's window. He grabbed a handful of Xander's sweater and pulled him close, kissing him hard; the stress and fright of the evening needed some sort of outlet, and this was as close as he was going to get for now to what he really wanted. Xander kissed him back just as desperately, and then pulled reluctantly away. 

"Okay - gotta go. Want to get home as fast as I can. You were great in there, Spike. Did great."

"Huh. You too - 'specially tellin' that bloody Colonel we were fuckin'. Thought he'd drop right there." 

Xander laughed, and pulled him in for another kiss, shorter this time. "I'm not ashamed of it - any of it. I'd tell Buffy and the gang tomorrow if I thought I could without getting you killed, but..."

"I know love, I know." Spike petted Xander's hair, seeing the worry and sadness cross his face. _*Know you'd claim me from the roof-top, love. You'd be crazy to do it, but you would...*_

"Why do you think Riley tried to help?" 

Spike shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe he was just tryin' to get some points in with the Slayer. Don't trust him, no matter what he did."

"Me neither." Xander reached and touched Spike's cheek. "You were brave." 

Spike grinned, flash of fangs. "You told the Colonel we were shaggin'. Who's brave now?" He leaned in and kissed Xander hard, then reluctantly pulled back. "We'll go straight home - mind you do the same. Hurry."

"I'll hurry." 

Spike stepped back and Xander drove away, looking back once or twice. Spike glanced around, then hurriedly got into Oz's van. It was thick with the wolf-smell, and also with fainter undertones of incense and marijuana, dust and stale bedding and someone - another man. _*Friend of the wolf's, maybe, been in here recently. Not Red, though.*_ Spike started the van and began to drive, and after a moment Oz shuffled up behind him, kneeling in the tangle of bedding and clothes, one hand gripping the back of the driver's seat for support. 

"All right, then, mate?" Spike asked, and Oz made an inarticulate sound, throat working. He coughed and tried again.

"Ffflask?" he whispered, and Spike dug it out of his pocket, handing it back to him. 

"There you are, pet. Go slow." Oz nodded and tipped the flask back, taking a small mouthful and wincing as he drank, his throat obviously raw. He drank a couple more times then offered it to Spike. The vampire took the flask - weighed it in his hand and then drained it, keeping one eye on the road. He shoved it back into his pocket and Oz leaned on the seat, eyes half-shut. Spike drove with uncharacteristic care, not wanting the lackadaisical attentions of the Sunnydale police to notice him tonight. They were both silent, and Spike was tense until he pulled up in front of the house and parked. Oz didn't move, half-dazed by the motion of the van, almost asleep.

"Come on wolfling - got some clothes in here? Grab your kit and we'll get you a shower, right? Wash the bloody stink of the place off of you. Get you somethin' to eat." 

Oz blinked at him, then crawled away into the depths of the van, emerging from the back with a paper bag stuffed with a few things. He wobbled, out on his feet, and Spike shut the van door and guided him up to the house. Xander kept a spare key under a rock on the front porch, and Spike stooped and got it out, and quickly opened the door. He helped Oz in, shutting the door - and froze. 

_*Someone's been in here. What the bloody hell is it? Not human...fuck...*_ He pushed Oz against the door. 

"Stay here a minute," he whispered, and moved silently toward the kitchen. The plate Xander had left had been used - fragments of pasta and smears of sauce were drying on it. The beer was empty, and there was a piece of paper pinned under the bottle. Spike peered at it. There were two words written there, in a slanting, careful script. _"Tomorrow - Jack"_

_*What the fuck? That Jack from Oxnard? What's he doin' here? And what the fuck is he? Xan-love, what are you doing?*_ Spike knew the house was empty except for Oz and himself, but the lingering presence left by this 'Jack' made him uneasy. He crossed to the kitchen door and turned the deadbolt - set the chain. _*Fuck it. Gotta get the wolfling sorted*_

He went back out to the living room to find Oz crouched against the door, nearly asleep, his bag crumpled in his arms. Spike crouched down beside him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"Come on mate - let's get you clean, get you something - 'nother drink, maybe. Come on. It's safe." Oz peered at him, his eyes flashing green in the dim light of the kitchen candle. He pushed himself slowly to his feet and let Spike lead him back to the bathroom. Spike grabbed the matchbook that was in the cabinet drawer and lit the bathroom candles. 

_*This is better then the regular lights, anyway...never turned those damn lights off in that place...burned your eyes out after a while...*_ He got the shower turned on, making sure it was warm. Oz stood, dazed and swaying, and Spike shook him a little.

"Wolfling - wake up. Can you get undressed? Come on, pet, that's it..." He helped Oz shed the borrowed clothes, then guided him into the shower. The bruises and cuts looked just as bad in the softer candle glow, and Spike felt an unexpected rage well up in him.

 _*He's not my friend - he's Red's dog...why do I care? Maybe 'cause he's hurt...worse then I ever was. Even the damn Scoobies treated him like he was human. They never made him an animal - a thing. I **know** I'm not human - they made sure **he** did, too. Fucking bastards.*_

Oz woke up in the shower a little, getting the soap and washing carefully around the cuts. Spike bundled up the clothes and shoved them into the trash, then heard the phone ringing in the other room. 

"Gotta get the phone. You'll be okay, mate?" Oz nodded at him through the steam, and Spike trotted to the living room and grabbed up the phone. "Xander?"

"Yeah. You alright? Oz?" 

"As bloody well as can be expected. Wolfling's in the shower. You on your way?"

"Yeah - I'm outta here. See you soon."

"Be careful, love. Oi, Xander! Make sure and get my kit - want my coat back!" 

Xander laughed. "Don't worry 'bout it, Spike - got it covered. Bye."

"Right," Spike said, and hung up. He looked down in distaste at the army-issue sweater he was still wearing and hastily skinned out of it. He went into the bedroom and got undressed, kicking the army clothes away from him, shoving his boots under the bed. He decided to wear a pair of Xander's sweat-pants and one of his old flannel shirts. He needed the comfort - wanted to be surrounded by Xander's scent, by his presence. At this point, he didn't care what Oz would think. He got dressed and went into the kitchen, heating up a first and second mug full of blood, feeling better for it. The residual shakes and nerves of the night were wearing off, and he finally started to relax. The shower was still going, so he went back to check on Oz.

The boy was huddled down in the bottom of the shower, the water running over him, plastering his hair down. Spike could smell fear still, and utter misery. He reached in and turned the shower off, and pulled Oz to his feet.

"Come on, pet - you'll be all right." He wrapped a towel around the boy, who was shivering, and rubbed briskly, getting him dry, careful over the cuts and scrapes, wincing at the deep bruises. "You want me to put somethin' on these?" he asked, and Oz shook his head, clutching at the towel.

"No - I'll change, later. Heal faster."

"Change - go all wolfy? All right. Come on and get dressed now." 

Spike pulled clothes from the bag - soft flannel pyjama pants and an oversize thermal shirt, thick socks. Good clothes to sleep in, heal in. Sleep was what he needed the most, Spike figured, and the whiskey he'd drunk was the best thing he could have had. Oz dressed slowly, then shuffled out of the bathroom, heading unsteadily for the living room.

"Want to eat?" Oz shook his head and sank down onto the couch. He curled on his side, shaking a little, and Spike pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over him. Oz burrowed under it, pulling it close, his eyes already closing. Spike took a minute to light a couple of candles, then he settled down onto the couch as well, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Oz reached out with one hand, groping along the couch, finally finding Spike's hand and closing his fingers around it. Spike slumped down on the couch, gently squeezing back, waiting for Xander to get there.

_______________________________

Louis Armstrong - _A Kiss to Build a Dream On_


	8. Trust

When Xander arrived home, he walked in the door and stopped dead, staring in surprise at the scene - Spike slumped on the couch, half asleep, with Oz curled next to him, their hands entwined on Spike's thigh. Xander shut the door quietly and Spike's eyes were suddenly open, watching him. He gently loosened Oz's grip on his hand and eased off the couch, and they both walked quietly to the kitchen. Xander had a plastic bag of Oz's shredded clothes, wallet, and keys that, amazingly, Tara had recovered from the college. He put it on the kitchen counter.

"Everything go alright at the Watcher's, pet?" Spike asked, and Xander nodded, staring at the table. 

"Yeah - well, sorta. Willow was pretty upset that Oz didn't want to see her, but I told her he was in bad shape and just didn't want her to worry. Told her he was just gonna sleep, anyway, and it would be better if everybody was a bit more calm when he finally saw them." Xander walked up to the table and looked down at the note, touching it with his fingers. "Buffy backed me up, said he needed to rest and not answer a bunch of questions... That secret project the mad Professor was working on has killed some people. I think she finally gets it that the Initiative is bad news." 

"Took long enough," Spike muttered, and put his arm around Xander's waist. He leaned there, his chin on Xander's shoulder as Xander picked up the note and looked at it. 

_*He was here. Back tomorrow... thank god... Jack, I hope this works*_

"What is he, Xander?" Spike asked, and Xander turned to face him, putting his own arms around Spike's waist, groin to groin but leaning back a little. Spike's eyes were narrowed, speculating, and Xander raised his eyebrows in question.

"What do you mean?"

"He's not human, pet. I could...feel him, when I got here. It - he..." Spike cocked his head a little, thinking, eyes never leaving Xander's face. 

"What, Spike?"

"It was - uncomfortable. Whatever he is, he's strong. What are you doing messin' about with somethin' like that, love?"

"He owes me, remember? I'm calling in the debt." Xander leaned closer and kissed Spike lightly, lips and cheeks, edge of his jaw, side of his throat. He nibbled on the tiny marks that hadn't quite faded from his earlier bite, and Spike shivered, shutting his eyes. Xander let his hands wander up the front of the flannel shirt, undoing one button, then the next, exposing the smooth planes of Spike's chest.

"Think you can distract me with sex?" Spike murmured, and Xander laughed softly, breathily, ghosting more kisses over Spike's collarbones, the other side of his neck.

"Oh yeah. Is it working?" 

"Workin' a treat, love," Spike whispered, pressing his erection tight into Xander, and Xander laughed again. Spike slid his arms up Xander's back and gently took his head in his hands, kissing him slowly, with utmost concentration. Xander sighed into the kiss, reveling in it, loving the taste and scent and feel of the vampire, content to just stand there all night, kissing him, feeling him, holding him. 

_*Safe, he's safe, he's here, mine, oh...please don't leave me, love, please don't...*_

"Xanderrr," Spike whispered, breaking away, nuzzling into his hair, "Want you..." He grazed Xander's jaw, his throat, with blunt teeth and Xander shuddered, the sensation going straight to his groin, a tingle like electricity all over.

"Have me...whatever you want...yours..." Xander mumbled, and Spike did a slow, sensual slide down Xander's body, his hands working at the belt, the button and zip of the Army pants, opening them and pulling them down. His cool cheek rubbed over Xander's hip, his lips nibbling, tongue darting out to flicker over heated skin. Xander gasped softly, swaying, looking down at Spike. 

He stumbled a little as Spike pushed him back a step, into a kitchen chair. He sank down and Spike slid his hands around Xander's waist, rubbing up his back and then down again, to settle on his hips. His mouth glided over Xander's belly and then _*finally, ohhh...*_ it was on Xander's cock, cool and wet, sliding down, licking, sucking, and Xander couldn't stop his hands from going out to Spike's hair. He curled his fingers in it, only holding, caressing. The vampire took the head of Xander's cock into his mouth, sucking gently, and Xander tried hard not to thrust up into him, afraid of hurting him. Spike went lower, further, and Xander could only writhe under him, lost in the pressure and the slick glide, in the fingers that stroked his hips and thighs and then slid down, to caress his balls. 

Spike pulled away and bent to lick there too, mouthing them, and Xander moaned softly. Then the cool mouth was back on his cock and taking him in, flicker of tongue and hard suction, fingers sliding between his legs to stroke and tease his perineum, slipping lower and just breaching the muscle with slippery fingertips. Xander gasped, transferring his grip to the chair-seat, clutching it tightly as Spike went faster, harder, with both fingers and mouth until Xander was arching up into him, trembling in orgasm and feeling Spike swallow and swallow again. 

Xander slumped back in the chair, eyes shut, panting, and he felt Spike's lips kissing his belly and then chest, pushing the shirt up. Then Spike's mouth was on his and Xander kissed him hungrily, tasting himself. Suddenly Spike was gone, and Xander opened his eyes, looking dazedly around. A noise from the bedroom and the vampire was back.

"Stand up, pet," Spike whispered, and Xander struggled upright, the vampire helping, then turning him, putting his hands back on the chair seat. Spike pushed Xander's pants lower, past his knees.

"Still want you..." Spike whispered in his ear, and he felt the vampire's fingers again, slick with lube, opening him, and Xander spread his legs as far as they would go in the confines of the camo pants. 

"Want you to come with me, this time," Spike murmured, and Xander pushed back against the twisting, petting fingers, groaning aloud as they found their mark and rubbed there. He couldn't help but push back, thrusting as hard as he could, and he gasped when Spike abruptly withdrew. A moment later the cool, blunt head of his cock was pushing there, insisting, and Xander arched into the body behind him, half hard, panting.  
Spike moved into him so slowly; he held Xander's hips in a tight grip and moved inch by inch. 

"Please move, Spike, please - want you in me..."

"Hmmmm..." Spike leaned over his back, one hand coming around to lazily stroke Xander's cock, fondle his balls. The other rubbed over his chest, pinching his nipples, scratching sharp nails down his ribs. Xander pushed back, hard, and Spike was in him. They both froze for a long moment, and then Spike was thrusting into him, building speed, changing the angle until Xander made a wordless sound of pure pleasure. Spike put both hands under Xander's shoulders and pulled him upright, holding him there.

"Shush, love, have to be quiet - don't want to wake the wolfling..." He kissed and nibbled Xander's neck, and Xander shivered as the vampire found his mark and trailed blunt teeth over it.

"Do it, Spike - want to feel that. Feels like...like I'm in you, when you do that...feels so  
good..." 

Spike let one hand trail down Xander's body to his cock and began to stroke him in time with the thrusts into his body. Xander felt him change and he tipped his head to the side, begging silently, his hands going behind to grasp at Spike's hips, urging him on. Spike thrust harder, making his own moaning cries now, and Xander used his muscles to tighten down on Spike's cock, pushing back, wanting as much as Spike could give him. 

Spike's left arm lifted suddenly, disappearing, and then he was bringing it around again in front and Xander saw that he'd torn his own wrist. The blood trailed there, gleaming scarlet, and Xander hesitated for only a moment, and then reached to press the wound to his mouth. The blood was... 

_*Oh...so good...like sparks, like...*_ Xander almost giggled, licking the heady stuff. _*Like Pop Rocks. Ooohh...*_

Spike hissed in pleasure and suddenly his fangs were sinking into Xander's flesh, sending out a wave of electric frisson, blossoming from where the fangs were sheathed in him and racing over his body, ending where Spike's cock was sheathed. Xander arched, rigid and trembling, a knot of fire tightening in his cock and balls and ass, sending him into orgasm. Spike's wrist was drawn away, his hand curling around Xander's hip, the other stroking him fiercely, the rhythm of Spike's hips going ragged now as his body stuttered into orgasm as well. With a low moan Spike pulled away from Xander's neck, licking the blood there and gasping, his arms tight around Xander. Xander leaned his head back on Spike's shoulder and just breathed, his heart pounding fit to burst. 

_*Oh that feels so good...like we're the same person...same orgasm...never wanted anyone this much...never want anyone else...*_ "Love you," he whispered, and Spike's arms tightened around him, and he felt cool lips on his jaw and then cheek, soft kisses at his temple.

"Love you too. Xander...you sure..."

"Sure of what, Spike?" Spike tried to move and Xander crossed his arms over Spike's arms, holding him there.

"Sure that...I'm what you want, pet? "

"Mmmm. I am. Never been so sure. Thought about you for so long - and this is better then I ever thought it would be. So much better... I was so sure you'd never..." Xander stopped, and Spike kissed his temple again, hugging harder for a brief moment.

"Sure I'd never what, love?"

"Never feel anything for me. Why should you? You had Drusilla...and I'm human - can't compare to a vampire..." 

Spike finally let go, turning Xander in his arms. Xander looked into eyes that were wide and deepest sea-blue in a face so solemn and intense that he felt a clench of fear in his gut. 

_*I can be second to her. I can. Don't care...*_

_*Don't want that - want **all** of him...*_ The soldier, fierce and anxious, no intention of being second. The hyena was only a wordless hum of pleasure, too lost in the presence of the vampire to notice or care about the sudden tension.

"You _can't_ compare, love. That's one of the reasons I want you so much. You're so different... Never spent this much time with a human, not since I was turned." Spike pushed his fingers back through Xander's hair, tugging gently, then leaned in and rested, forehead to forehead, his hands burrowing under Xander's shirt, rubbing his back in slow circles. "I don't _want_ a vampire - I want you. Dru... she's gone. She told me what for, and pushed me away... I loved her so bloody much, once upon a time...but I just don't anymore. She cut my heart - slashed it to bloody pieces. And I...it was just habit there at the end, love. Just habit. Hundred years I gave her, more, and she took it all...and I just want..." 

Spike stopped and put his face down into Xander's neck, and breathed a moment there, deeply. His hands were shaking on Xander's back, and Xander pulled him close, stroking the vampire's back under the flannel shirt he'd never taken off. 

"Just want you. You make me real too, love - make me know I'm still here. Make me _feel_..." 

Spike lifted his head, looking into Xander's eyes, and Xander saw the truth there. He leaned in to kiss Spike, slow and easy and thorough, _*cloves and cream, whiskey and spice and...blood. So...good...*_

"Love you...just...love you. Never really thought I'd say that and mean it so...damn...much," Xander whispered. Spike smiled at him, nuzzling his cheek, his fingers coming back up to comb through Xander's hair.

"Glad you do, pet. Love you too..." Spike kissed him again, little fleeting kisses over cheek and forehead, nose and chin - caught Xander's lower lip between his teeth and nibbled for a minute, then pulled away, grinning.

"Come wash my hair?" Xander laughed aloud, quickly shushing himself.

"You _do_ have an obsessive bathing fetish. But..." Xander looked down at themselves, pants around ankles and smears of lube and - other things - on their bodies and clothes.

"But we do need a wash." He bent his knees a little and snagged the sweatpants Spike was wearing, pulling them up, and Spike did the same for him, leaving the camo pants gaping open, belt jingling. As they walked to the bathroom, Xander had to ask.

"Why are you wearing my clothes, Spike?"

"Wanted something comfy. They smell like you." Spike grinned at Xander's look of surprise, then laughed as a huge smile spread over Xander's face.

"You got a _crush_ on me, Spike?" Xander teased, and Spike growled. 

"The evil undead do not get _crushes_ , pet. We're much too dignified for that."

"Oh right. Forgot. Dignity." Xander reached over and yanked the sweatpants down, giggling. Spike made a point of very carefully shutting the bathroom door before pouncing.

 

After they showered, Xander went about cleaning up the kitchen while Spike watched him. The vampire smoked one cigarette after another until Xander finally opened the kitchen door and made shooing motions with his hand.

"What?" Spike asked, and Xander made a face at him. 

"You're going to choke me with those things. Until the marathon chain-smoking session is over, go outside. _Why_ are you smoking so much, anyway?" Spike looked at the cigarette he was holding and frowned, then crushed it out in the overflowing ashtray.

"Sorry, mate. Didn't think about it. Just - this Jack..."

" _That's_ what you're worried about?" _*Damnit. Didn't want to talk about this. Wanted to talk to Jack first... Ok, calm...*_ Xander took the ashtray and dumped it, then tossed it back to Spike, who sat on the kitchen table, bare feet in a chair, his black jeans half undone. Spike weighed the ashtray in his hands, then looked up at Xander, scowling. 

"Do you know what he is, really? He wasn't even in the soddin' house and I felt... He's so strong, love. Can you trust him? What do you want him for?" 

Xander sighed, pulling the plug on the kitchen sink, watching the dirty water drain out, wringing out the dishcloth. He wiped his hands on a towel and turned around, leaning on the sink, arms crossed.

"He owes me - "

"You said that, pet. What are you going to get him to pay?" 

Spike put the ashtray aside and sat there looking at Xander as if waiting for him to sprout an extra head. His eyes were narrowed and he was very, very still. _*Like a cat about to pounce. Well fuck. Here we go*_ Xander uncrossed his arms and walked over to Spike, nudging one leg aside and getting between the vampire's thighs. He rested his hands on Spike's hips and sighed, looking up finally to meet the violet-blue gaze.

"I don't _want_ to tell you..." Spike started to speak and Xander put a hand up, stilling him. "But I will, because...I didn't realize you would worry so much. I'm going to... I'm going to ask him if he can do - something - about the chip." 

Spike's eyes went wide, and Xander felt Spike's muscles go rigid under his fingers. Spike didn't move - didn't say anything, and Xander couldn't stop the babble that welled up out of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Spike, I didn't want to tell you, I don't know if he can do anything at all, he might just tell me to forget it, but you're right, he's powerful, I _felt_ it, and it just seemed like... He's the only - it's the only solution I can come up with. The Initiative seems to be imploding, who knows if they'll even be around in a few months, and they're the only other people who know..."

"Xander...love...hush." Spike lay one cool finger on Xander's lips, shushing him, and Xander looked down at where his hands were clenching on Spike's hips. He eased up, rubbing gently. "What..." Spike stopped, looking away, then back at Xander. "What if he can. I'll be free of this bloody chip - free to kill. And I will, love. You know I will. Startin' with those soldier bastards and any doctor I can get my hands on... Every one of them..." Spike's eyes were lambent brass now, glowing in the candle-light, and Xander rubbed his hands on Spike's thighs. 

"I know, Spike. I trust you."

"Do you _really_? Do you really, pet?" Spike let the demon emerge, baring his fangs, hissing through them, his hands on Xander's biceps, clenching hard. "This _is_ me, Xander - whatever you see when you look at me with that mojo - this is _me_...and I _earned_ my name, love, and I _enjoyed_ earning it. And nothing stops me, and nobody owns me, and I'll snap the Slayer's neck for her, love. On the day I get lucky, she gets _dead_ , love - do you _really_ understand, _love_ , who I am, what I am, what I'll do?" Spike's voice had sunk to a sibilant growl, all the more unnerving for being so quiet.

Xander could feel his heart pounding - could feel fear and anger and desperation all roiling in his gut - knew that _Spike_ could feel it, sense it; the demon's nostrils flared, and a groaning, snarling noise rumbled out of his chest. Xander felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck - felt his breath shortening to pants. 

_*Harris, you've fucked yourself, **told** you - *_

_* **Shut. Up.** You're not helping. Gotta calm down - gotta calm him down...what...*_

_*Pack*_ the hyena muttered, whining, _*Pack*_ Xander's eyes widened. He knew what the hyena wanted him to do - for the second time, the hyena was urging something Xander knew was dangerous. But the hyena knew that maybe, this was all he _could_ do. To calm Spike down. To show him...he trusted him. _*God I hope this works...*_

Xander closed his eyes and tipped his head back and to the side, exposing his throat, the edges of Spike's earlier bite showing above the collar of his t-shirt. And waited there, shivering, for what Spike would do. He felt the vampire's hands dig hard into his arms - heard the snarl ratchet up into a full-fledged growl; louder, deeper, infinitely more terrifying. 

Spike jerked Xander close, crushing the mortal to his chest, his mouth going down hard on Xander's throat, on his mark, one hand shredding the t-shirt away from it in a single jerk. The fangs bit, savage and hard, and Xander felt the blood flow out in a shivery rush. Xander gasped, writhing helplessly. Even this - this brutal _taking_ , sent heat through him, want, _desire_. His hands scrabbled at Spike's back, trying to pull him closer, and abruptly Spike wrenched himself away, pushing Xander back, launching himself off the table and around the room in an inarticulate fury. He roared, and Xander heard a yelp and a thud from the living room. _*Oz, fuck... don't come in here...*_

" _Spike!_ " Xander yelled, and Spike rounded on him, snarling, then stopped and backed away. He came up hard against the wall by the bedroom door and slid down into a crouch, head in hands. Xander watched him for a moment, then he walked slowly over to him, crouching down as well, clenching his hands together in an effort not to reach out and touch the vampire. He just hovered there, and finally Spike looked up, human again, the expression on his face utterly furious.

"That was the _stupidest_ bloody thing I've ever seen you do." he grated out, and Xander ducked his head, unable to keep a smile off his face.

"Maybe it was. But it proved my point, Spike. Didn't it." Spike glared at him, and Xander finally reached out, slow, and touched the sharp curve of cheekbone; brushed his fingers back through Spike's shower-damp hair. 

"You're a vampire. I _know_ that. You kill. I know that. But..." Xander smiled softly at him, caressing Spike's cheek, and Spike leaned into it, so feline that Xander almost laughed. "You're a vampire and I _trust_ you. A vampire whose soul glows like the sun. Who loves me. Who went back into the place that gives him nightmares to help rescue - "

"Me. And I'm kinda wondering why." Xander and Spike both whipped around, startled, to stare at Oz, who leaned in the doorway of the living room. The werewolf was pale and a little shaky on his feet, but his green gaze was steady and calm. Spike laughed, slightly hysterical, and put his head down in his hands again, scrubbing his fingers through his hair.

"Hey, Oz. Sorry about - " Xander made a vague gesture, himself and Spike, and Oz shrugged, pushing away from the door jamb and shuffling over to where the other two were. He eased himself down, cross-legged, looking first at Xander and then at Spike.

"I remember you, from - school. Parent-teacher night. Saw you in the halls... Spike. Vampire."

"S'right, mate. You care?" Oz shook his head, glancing over at Xander.

"I knew back at - that place. But you were with Buffy, and...you smelled like Xander, all over. Figured you were...friendly, somehow. And Xander smells like you. So I guess that's why the rescue? You two together?" 

Xander choked, trying not to laugh, and then he had to. He sprawled down onto his butt, snorting, and Spike slid down until he, too, was sitting, kicking Xander's foot.

"You great tit," Spike said, and smirked. 

Xander sat up straight, shooting a mock-furious look at Spike. "Don't call me weird English slang things - I don't know how to respond. So, Oz...you don't care? I mean, about Spike and me...the _grrr_ thing - all that?" 

Oz shrugged, rubbing his hands up his arms as if he were cold. "S'cool with me, man. I mean, the yelling and the growling was a bit...but you guys seem okay. That looks a little sore." Oz was peering at the bite, and Xander reached up to it, ruefully fingering his torn t-shirt. 

"It'll heal. He wasn't actually trying to hurt me." Xander just looked at Oz for another minute, grinning. _*Thanks, Oz - for being...just calm. Needed that*_

"So - how're you feeling? Do you - are you hungry?"

"Kinda. My stomach's kinda... Mostly I'm thirsty. I'd really like some water." His voice seemed to have mended itself, but the bruises were still stark on his face. Xander scrambled to his feet, pulling Spike up with him. 

"Why don't you help our guest to a chair, vampire-mine." Spike lifted an eyebrow, cocking his head to one side as if considering whether or not to comply. Then he swooped in and got a quick kiss in on Xander's lips before turning to Oz and holding out a hand.

"C'mon, mate. Up you go." Xander grinned and went over to the 'fridge for water, filling a glass and putting it on the table for Oz. Spike helped Oz to a chair; the brief nap seemed to have stiffened the werewolf up and he moved gingerly, wincing. He drank in silence, watching as Xander settled in a chair and Spike leaned behind him, the long, pale fingers going out almost unconsciously to stroke Xander's hair. 

"So - what do you... You're welcome to stay here as long as you like, no problem, but...what are you gonna do about...Willow?"

Oz looked down at his glass, stroking his finger along the sweating side. He sighed, then looked back up at Xander. 

"I think...Willow and me...that's over. That girl - Tara? She was - all over Willow. Like - well, a lot like you two." 

"Yeah?" _*Huh. I thought they were getting close, but - didn't realize... That must hurt...*_

"Thought those two were up to somethin'," Spike murmured, and Xander tipped his head back to look at him. 

"You did? Why?"

"Same as wolfman, here," Spike said, and tapped his nose. 

Xander grimaced and looked back at Oz. "You know, stuff like that just makes me want to bathe about five times a day." Xander yawned suddenly, hugely, and looked around at the clock on the microwave. _*1:16. Damn. How do I do this to myself?*_ "Sorry, guys, but I gotta go to sleep. I gotta be up early for work. You two...stay up, if you wanna. Watch TV or whatever, I don't mind. Okay?"

"Sure," Oz said, and lifted his glass to his mouth, gulping down half the water. Spike followed Xander into the bedroom, catching him around the waist and kissing him hard, a desperate kiss of passion and claiming and maybe fright, as well. Spike reluctantly pulled away, resting his forehead on Xander's. 

"Don't do that again, love. You could have died."

"But I didn't. I trust you, Spike. I _see_ you. Don't ever forget that." Xander kissed him gently, and Spike sighed.

"You're crazy, to be like that."

"Crazy in love. And - the chip didn't go off. So I'd say that doubly proves my point. You didn't have any intention of hurting me at all." Xander said, and smiled. Spike shook his head, but he was smiling, too.

"Want me to stay?" Spike asked, and Xander kissed him again, flicker of tongue over Spike's lips.

"Go and sit with Oz for a little, would you? He might be... he might need it." Spike looked at him, and nodded finally, and shut the door softly behind him as he went out. Xander brushed his teeth quickly and then got into bed, stretching hard and trying to let all the tension out that had accumulated through the day.

_*I won that round. I think. I still trust him. I hope - I just hope he can... Fuck. I wonder if I lived anywhere but Sunnyhell if my love life would be normal*_ Xander burrowed into his pillow, which held the faint scent of Spike, and was asleep. 

 

When he woke, it was to the unaccustomed sensation of warmth all along his back, and he slapped at the alarm and turned in the bed, wary of what he might find. He couldn't help but grin at what he did see. Spike, on his belly, with one arm flopped over the silken back of a large, red-brown wolf. As Xander stared, the wolf _*Oz. Damn, that's Oz. Forgot how beautiful. Wow*_ raised his head and gazed at Xander with wide black eyes. 

"Hey. Work." Xander said softly, and reached out to smooth the thick mane of hair along Oz's shoulders. Oz made a ' _humf_ ' sound down in his chest and lay his head back onto the quilt. Xander slid out of bed and got ready to go. Before he left, he tiptoed back into the bedroom and pressed a kiss to Spike's forehead. 

_*A vampire and his wolf. Hah. Wish I had a camera. Least they'll both be safe*_ He was in his truck and down the street before he remembered that Jack would be there that day. He glanced back at his house, lit by the rising sun, and mentally shrugged. One way or another, by tonight they'd both know what Jack could do. And then - things would change. _*And please, for the better*_


	9. Jack

When Xander walked into the kitchen _*I hope wolves like Chinese. Maybe I should have tried that Ethiopian place...or maybe I should learn to cook*_ , Spike was already awake, dressed and sitting at the table, cigarette in hand and mug of blood in front of him. He looked extremely unhappy. 

"Hey, what's up?" Xander asked, stroking his hand across Spike's shoulders as he walked by.

"Bloody witch and the Watcher came by - nattered at the wolf until he bolted."

"What?" Xander knew he'd seen Oz's van outside. "Where'd he go?"

"Out," Spike gestured towards the door - the bluff - and Xander cautiously parted the blinds to look out. Oz was nowhere to be seen.

"I don't - " 

"You wouldn't, pet. He went all wolfy. Red seems ta bring it out in him."

"Oh." Xander slumped down in a chair, watching Spike, who stabbed the cigarette out with unnecessary force then toyed with the mug of blood in front of him. There were thin, slightly smudgy lines of black under Spike's eyes, and Xander stared for a second before recognizing eye liner. _*Somebody's been playing dress-up! Looks...nice*_ "What's the matter, Spike?"

"Hmmm? Oh - just... Those two. Really fucked with the wolfling. Went on and on about comin' here an' how I can't be trusted and how you been actin' weird and what did the bloody soldiers an' the doctors do..." Spike stopped abruptly and lit another cigarette but didn't smoke it - held it in his fingers and watched the smoke. Xander figured that the last question - what the soldiers and doctors had done - was what was bothering Spike the most. The vampire certainly didn't care one bit about being 'trustworthy', and any opportunity to separate Xander from the Slayer and her gang would only make Spike happy, not all... 

_*Is he...mad? More like - brooding. Huh. Angel Jr. Better not say **that** out loud *_ Xander smirked at the thought, then sobered. He got up and got the bag of Chinese food from the counter and grabbed some plates out of the cabinet. 

"Well, they'll know better next time. Nobody got - hurt, did they?"

"Nah, more's the pity." Spike lifted his head, nostrils flaring. "Wolfling's back." A moment later, there was a scratching at the door, and Spike retreated to the bedroom while Xander opened the kitchen door. Honeyed light flooded in and Oz with it, russet fur glowing. The wolf sniffed at Xander's work-stained jeans then trotted into the bedroom, claws clicking on the hardwood floor. Xander shut the door, and a moment later giggled when he heard Spike's voice.

"Oi! Get off! That's bloody cold!" Spike came back into the kitchen, wiping his cheek with his hand and shooting a disgusted look back towards the bedroom. "Damn mongrel," he muttered, but his bad mood seemed to have lifted and he dug into the bag of Chinese with gusto. Xander went over to the sink to wash his hands, and then got a soda out of the 'fridge. When he turned back to the table, Oz was there, back in human form; flannel pants and no shirt, barefoot, his henna-washed hair sticking up in spikes and a grin on his face. The marks left by the Initiative were almost gone. 

_*Faster healing in wolf form. That's a lucky break.*_

"Oz. You look better. Soda?" 

"Sure." Oz went through to the living room and rummaged for a moment in the duffle he'd brought in, pulling out a worn t-shirt and slipping it on. He came back to the table and sat down, watching Spike open boxes in his search for dumplings. Oz started to fill his own plate, shooting a quick grin at Xander. Xander settled back into his own chair; soda for Oz, beer for Spike, mushu pork on his plate. 

_*Life is good *_

"So - feeling better, I guess. Did you have a - good run?" Xander gestured out towards the bluff and the sea, and Oz opened his soda, lapping at the drops that spilled over the edge.

"Yeah. It was nice. Guess I'll have to apologize to Giles and Willow later - " Spike snorted, pouring soy sauce and then blood over his plateful of rice, dumplings, sweet and sour chicken, and egg rolls. 

"Don't owe them fuck-all, mate. They should'a known better. Tell 'em keep their poxy questions and leave you be." He stuffed a dumpling in his mouth and chewed, eyes golden, and Oz shot Xander a _look_. 

"Well, that's an option too." Oz said, looking thoughtful. For a while there were only the sounds of eating and drinking. The sun crept below the horizon and the kitchen got darker, and Xander lit two new candles for the table and opened the door, letting the cool ocean breeze blow into the house. Spike, finishing first, shoved back from the table a little bit and lit a cigarette, smoking slowly, eyes on the distant, heaving sea.

"S'nice, bein' by the sea like this. Me an' Dru had a house in Casablanca, near the Medina. Used to sit up on the roof, right before sunrise and watch the sea... Dru loved to go down to the beach, lay in the sand when it was still warm from the day..." He drank his beer, lost in thought, and Oz leaned his chin on his hand, watching him.

"Sounds nice. When were you in Morocco?" 

"Hmmm? Oh - right after the Blitz started. We stayed there 'bout a year. Then came over here for a while. It got...thin, down there, during the war." His eyes were dark, and Xander wondered if these memories were painful because of Dru, or because of something else. Oz just seemed enraptured, ready to listen all night. 

"New York was better - we had fun there. Hell's Kitchen, Greenwich Village, Chinatown..." Spike glanced up at Oz - at Xander, and smiled. "Even got a bloody gang named after us..."

"Oh right! The Capeman murders!" Oz said, and Xander shot him a look.

"What?"

"Gangs and stuff - the Vampires and the...Nordics."

" _How_ do you know this stuff?" Xander asked, getting up and gathering plates. Oz shrugged, stuffing empty cartons into the bag they'd arrived in.

"I did a lot of reading, locked up in the cage at the library. Sometimes - you guys were kinda late, getting there."

Xander paused, running water over the plates, thinking about it. "Yeah. I guess we were. Kinda sucked for you, huh?" 

Oz shrugged again, getting up and pushing the bag into the trash can. "No big deal." He yawned, stretching - froze in mid-stretch and backed away from the door. At the same moment Spike was on his feet and growling, the demon's eyes flaring yellow fire in the candle-glow. Oz seemed to waver, eyes going black, his teeth lengthening, and then human again, looking back and forth between the door and Spike.

"What is it - " Oz whispered, moving closer to Spike, shivering. 

"It's - him...that..." Spike snarled, back tight against the wall, and Xander felt almost sick, his heart was pounding so hard. 

_*Jack? Is it Jack? What the hell is he? Why are they so freaked out?*_

_*This could have been a major miscalculation, Harris*_ the soldier grumbled. Xander wiped his hands on his jeans and walked slowly towards the door. The hyena didn't seem to notice whatever it was that had set the others off. Xander could _feel_ the power, but it didn't seem to threaten or frighten. Just...be there, like a subtle smoke. He stood in the doorway, looking out over the porch, into the dense shadow of the eucalyptus that stood near the stairs. Beyond was grass dotted with low bushes, and the bluff; a sharp edge of darkness against a sky silvered with moonlight. Something - moved. 

And then Jack was there, at the foot of the stairs, grinning up at Xander. Xander jerked back, startled. The bloodied and torn denim jacket was gone, replaced by a leather bomber jacket so cracked and worn it looked like it had survived a kamikaze flight. The jeans and undershirt were the same, the sneakers still patched with duct tape. 

"Xander," Jack said, voice low, and his eyes sparked red through the tangled hair.

"Jack." Xander whispered. He backed away as Jack climbed the steps, and from behind Xander rose a sing-song wail, a hideous sound. It was Spike, and Xander crossed to him, unsure if he should touch him, or even speak to him at this point. The hyena reacted to _that_ , a shiver deep down. 

_*Hunting... Circle the pack...pack...*_ Oz was crouched down, panting, his eyes black and his clawed hands digging into the floor, splintering it. Spike was head down, ready to spring - although Xander couldn't tell if he'd attack or run. 

"Spike? It's okay, Spike. Calm down. You're kinda freakin' me out. Spike?" Jack stood in the doorway, his leather knapsack over his shoulder. "Fuck. Spike? _Oz_? Can you guys..." Xander put his hand out and tentatively took hold of Spike's shoulder. The vampire was shaking, his body tight as a bow-string, and Xander gently rubbed his shoulder, hoping to get him to relax a little. 

Spike hissed, snapping at him, but his hand shot out and grabbed Xander's arm, trying to get Xander behind him. In a minute Xander knew the vampire's grip was going to hurt both of them, and he tried to pull away. Spike _yanked_ , and then was on his knees, clutching his head, still growling but panting in agony now, shuddering from nerves and pain and fright. 

Oz abruptly reverted to his fully human state and shot a lop-sided grin at Xander. "We're both a little wigged, man. Let's get him up." Xander nodded and put a hand under Spike's arm, as did Oz, and they both hauled the vampire up. Spike staggered a step and slumped into a chair, and Xander hastily stepped between him and Jack, who was still in the doorway, watching them. 

Jack walked to the table and slung his knapsack on it, and lowered himself into a chair. Tangle of dark hair, dark skin, his eyes half-hidden behind crow-black strands, his teeth glinting white in a wide grin. "So. Xander. You called, I came. I see you have...companions."

"Uh. Yeah." Xander pulled a third chair over close to Spike and sat in it, letting his thigh press up against Spike's under the table, keeping his hand on Spike's shoulder. Oz settled into the last chair, looking frankly curious, still shivering just a little.

"This is Spike - " 

"William the Bloody," Jack said, and Spike's head came up, game-face again, fangs bared.

"I knew of you in Europe, oh...around 1895. So - you're here. And with Xander."

"What are you," Spike said, and his voice was flat calm. Utterly devoid of expression and deadly quiet. It made Xander flinch, but Jack laughed, and made a motion with his hand, and suddenly he was in the tatty velvet jacket, feathers in his hair, and his eyes glowed. The power coming off Jack - changed. Oz gasped, eyes going wide, and Spike sat upright, glaring at the man.

"What did you - " Xander wondered wildly for a moment if Jack had given them _all_ that power of seeing.

"I just let them see me as I mostly am - took away the glamour. Now do you know, vampire?"

"I know. Leave Xander be. Cancel your debt." Jack laughed again, and settled himself back in the chair. 

Xander gaped at Spike. _*What the hell? What the **fuck** is going on...*_ Xander almost spoke but then waited, wanting to know what Jack would say.

"Why would I do that? _I_ owe _him_ \- he only has to ask. No strings."

"There's always strings with your kind." Spike dug his fingers into the table, his fingernails leaving gouges. 

Xander winced. _*Maybe I should have seen Jack alone after all. Fuck*_

_*Too late for that now, Harris. Eye on the prize.*_

"No strings this time." Jack cocked his head a little, then stretched his arm out across the table, palm up.  
"Try it - test me. You know you can." Jack stared at Spike, utterly serious now, and Spike stared back. Jack reached with his other hand and put his fingernail to his wrist, and slit the skin with an easy flick. The blood welled up immediately, darkly glittering, and Spike and Oz both scented it, nostrils flaring. Xander even thought he detected something - a dark, earthy scent, old and powerful.

"No strings. Just a debt paid." Jack leaned forward, bringing his arm even closer, and Spike reached out and gathered the welling of blood onto his finger and touched it to his tongue. Then he shut his eyes, shivering all over, and licked all the blood away in a single, sensuous move. His hand dropped to Xander's thigh under the table and gripped it tightly. And he laughed. 

"Fuck, mate. Wouldn't have to eat for a month, if I got one of you." Spike was grinning now, suddenly relaxed, and Xander couldn't keep quiet anymore.

"Oookay, I would _really_ like to know what's going on here. And why I wasn't nearly as wigged out as you guys were. Care to explain? Jack? Spike?" He looked from one to the other, and Jack smiled again, seriousness gone. He licked the blood on his wrist and the cut vanished, healed.

"You have another of those beers, Xander? The last one was pretty good."

"Sure..." Xander stood up and got two - hesitated, and grabbed two cold ones out of the 'fridge. _*Yay for fake I.D.'s*_ He put the imported beers down for Spike and Jack and the others for himself and Oz. Oz smiled faintly. 

"Ok. Somebody talk." Xander opened his beer and drank, waiting, pressing his thigh and calf against Spike's, itching to do more but not wanting to distract anyone from explaining what was going on.

"You tell, Grandfather. Not my place." Spike smirked, drinking his beer, and Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Grandfather?"

"Suits you, mate." Spike leaned back, casual, but his thigh trembled against Xanders' under the table. 

"Huh." Jack drank as well, then set the bottle down and looked at Oz, then Xander. "You children have heard fairy stories, I'm sure. Leprechauns and will-o-the-wisps and all manner of...otherworldly things."

"Hellmouth. Pretty much got 'otherworldly' comin' out of our ears here." Xander said, watching Jack watch him.

"That's so. Salt?" Xander rose silently, got the salt, set it down, then sat back down, eyes still fixed on Jack. Jack poured salt out into his palm - funneled it into his beer and licked the rest away. "Well, _they_ are real too, those things. The little folk. The fair folk. The Glaistig and the Banshee and all manner of...creature. The Seelie Court. And the UnSeelie, as well."

"And the tithe to hell, eh Sidhe?" Spike's eyes were narrow, watching Jack, and Jack smirked at him.

"You'd know about hell, wouldn't you, vampire? But yes, the tithe, to some hell, for some, sometimes. It's all...negotiable." He waved his hand in a vague gesture, and drank another mouthful of beer. "Well, the Seelie Court is home to the queen and king - sometimes they're called Onagh and Finvarra. They're the Fair Folk." He grinned at Spike, his eyes going narrow. "I'm not." 

Xander felt a chill go through him at that, but Oz had a strange look on his face.

"Elves, you mean? Fairy?" The werewolf sounded stunned - eager. Jack grimaced.

"Those words are...let's use the vampire's, shall we? Sidhe. Yes."

"Shee," Oz echoed. Xander was staring.

" _Elves_?" 

"Yeah, those folk. Only this one won't be fixin' your shoe or cleanin' your house, pet. _Or_ gettin' up to lighthearted romps in the woods with maidens and boys. This kind - " 

"Let's leave that where it lies, shall we?" Jack interrupted. "As for your companions' reactions... Well, we're quite a bit older then demons and werewolves. They tend to react badly to their elders." Spike snorted, and Jack grinned at him. "Humans, on the other hand... There are, shall we say, _complications_ in our dealings. We're no threat to you unless you let us be."

"How'd you know - about Oz?" Xander interrupted, and Jack flashed that grin at him, delight and malice. 

"His blood fair sings it, to me and mine. Now, vampire." Jack switched his gaze from Xander back to Spike. 

"You tasted - you know I'm not lying, or trying to trick Xander. And I have no claim over you or the wolf. So let's be...friends?" Jack looked at Spike from under lowered lashes and Xander felt a tremor go through the vampire. 

Spike hissed, eyes flashing gold. "Let's be gettin' on with it, mate." Spike drained the last of his beer, setting the bottle down deliberately, carefully, and Jack copied him.

"Let's, then." Jack looked at Xander, solemn now, his eyes glowing even without the _seeing_. "I owe you a debt, you called me to you to pay it. Name your price." Xander felt Jack's power slide over him - surround him - like an invisible smoke. It made the hairs rise on the back of neck. He gasped in a sharp breath, and Oz did the same. Spike just growled, low, and Xander could feel it tremor through his body.  
"Can you - can you see what's inside Spike? That...thing." 

Jack cocked his head, _looking_ at Spike, the power coming off him in almost tangible waves now. He recoiled, his face flashing for an instant into something else - not the homeless man, or the man in the velvet coat. Something...far darker.

"What. Is. That." he grated out, and Xander exhaled sharply. 

"You can see it? It's...a computer chip. This military group - they captured him. Opened up his head and stuck that thing in there. It hurts him if he tries to fight any human - if he tries to - drink blood." Xander watched Jack - watched a look of revulsion cross his face, and then speculation. 

"Military?"

"Yeah. The government. They had Oz, too - tortured him." Jack ran an appraising eye over Oz, who looked back, his gaze mild, his fingers laced tightly together on the table-top.

"But the wolf is free of...things. Little spiders, pumping venom."

"Yeah. Just a spot of the old Spanish Inquisition for the wolfling," Spike muttered.

"I can see it. I'm thinking you want me to do...something...with that."

"Yeah. I do. I want...want Spike to be able to defend himself. I want that thing out of him." Jack looked at him, then back at Spike, tapping his fingers on the table-top.

"I can...break it. Getting it out would - well, it's not possible. But it's just - elements. I can manipulate those. And this is a good night for it."

"Why is that?" Oz asked, and Jack shot an amused look at him.

"It's the Equinox. Night and day, the same length. A good night for things to be put back into balance." He looked at Spike again, and the grin came back, wide and rather feral, his eyes sparking red behind his mane of hair. "It's gonna hurt like fuck," he said. Spike laughed. 

"I'd be disappointed if it didn't, mate." Spike stood up, bouncing just a little on the balls of his bare feet. "Where d'ya want me?"

"Wait - hurt?" Xander stood also, looming over Jack. "Why do you have to hurt him?"

"Some things hurt, Xander. He'll be alright. Vampires, they're tough. And he'll be himself again. Which is what you want. Right?" Jack looked up at him, all innocent except for the hell-shot red of his eyes, and Xander felt a surge of fear go through him. 

_*Oh damn, Spike's right, he has power and to spare and what if he - what if he fucks him up, what if he...fuck, **fuck** *_

"Jack..."

"It's alright, love. I tasted his truth. He won't trick you. But don't ever count on that again. Let's get this done, Sidhe."

"Outside would be best, I think." Jack rose and went, and Spike followed. Xander stood in the kitchen, staring after them until Oz stood also and came and put his hand on Xander's shoulder.

"It'll be ok, Xander. But man, you owe me a story." Xander stared down at Oz and a hysterical giggle escaped him. He clapped his hand over his mouth but another bubbled out before he could calm himself.

"Fuck, Oz, I...I just want Spike to be - to not be afraid anymore. _Fuck_ I hope this works." 

"What if it does?" 

Xander pushed his hands back through his hair. "That's part of the story, Oz. You're right - it'll be ok." They both just looked at each other for a minute, and then they went outside as well. 

 

Jack was sitting on the ground about ten yards away from the house. Spike was lying on the ground in front of him, on his back. His hands were clenched into fists, and he was staring upwards, face rigid. His eyes kept flickering to gold, and Xander wanted to sit with him; hold his hand, touch his shoulder, kiss him. But he didn't think Jack would let him do that, so he went down the stairs and across the grass, Oz beside him, and settled cross-legged a few feet away.

"All right then?" Jack asked. Xander nodded, and Jack closed his eyes. His hands rose from his lap and settled lightly on Spike's head, where the chip was. He began to make a soft sound in his throat - like humming - but it was deep and strange, wild-sounding. It made Xander shiver, and beside him Oz fidgeted, growling. 

Green sparks and lines began to fade up out of the grass all around Jack. They hovered over him, swirling and dancing, tracing the lines of his body until he was encased in a shifting, transparent shroud. His fingers seemed to sink ever so slightly into Spike's skull, and Spike went rigid, his eyes and mouth opening wide. He gasped in a breath and started to scream. 

The light swirled around his face, covering it, going into his mouth, and all Xander heard was a thready whine that seemed to go on and on. Jack was frowning, still humming, his wrists making tiny movements, and his fingers sunk further away. Xander ground his teeth together, a helpless, sick feeling twisting his gut; he was gasping for breath, his fingers twisting in the grass. That sound - the sound Spike was making - seemed to shiver through him like nails on a blackboard. It hurt, somehow, down in his bones. He felt Oz's hand touch his knee, gripping, and Xander realized he was crying. 

Spike's fingers had dug into the dirt, knuckle deep, and he was arched like a bow, his body straining off the grass. Suddenly the light around Jack flickered to yellow - white - and was gone, leaving Xander and Oz blinking, half blind. Spike's body sagged in sudden release and his head lolled, eyes shut. He was unconscious. Jack was bowed over, gasping, and Xander struggled up, crawling on his knees to Spike and pulling at him. He sat back, cradling Spike's head on his thighs, stroking his fingers through the stiff hair. Laying his palm on Spike's cheek he realized it was wet with tears.

"Is it - what did you do? Is he going to wake up?" Xander wiped at his own face, brushing off moisture. Jack pushed himself upright, and he was haggard, drawn. Whatever he did to himself to look like a homeless man - the glamour - was working erratically. The real Jack kept showing in flashes and fits, making Xander dizzy.

"I broke it." Jack's voice was strained - thready. "It was only silica and metal. A spider with copper legs and a crystalline body, sending out pain along its web. Crouching there..." Jack coughed, wiping his mouth, and looked down at Spike. "I made it draw its legs in - made them knot. Changed it. It's nothing but a bead of copper and glass now. It would make a pretty charm." Jack smirked, then his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell back onto the grass. 

Xander just stared at him, then down at Spike. The vampire was motionless. He looked to be made of salt in the cool slant of the moonlight, his brows like slashes of ink, his hair glowing. He was unearthly and utterly beautiful and Xander leaned down and kissed him, breathing his scent of leather and smoke, blood and spice. He heard Oz moving closer, and looked up to see him settling near by, eyes wide and amazed. 

"Xander. That was..." 

"Yeah. Do you think...do you think Spike needs blood?" Xander pulled Spike up a little higher on his thighs, wrapping his arms around him, Spike's head on his chest.

"I dunno. Let's wait a minute and see." Oz glanced over at Jack, who was still shivering in and out of focus. The green light was back, much subdued, and it crawled over Jack like thin worms, weaving a veil that seemed to anchor him to the ground. Xander turned away from Jack to Spike, stroking his hand over and over the vampire's hair.

"Spike, wake up now. Jack did it, he fixed it. Come on Spike, open your eyes and look at me, love. Spike...wake up… _please_ , Spike..." Xander could hear the tremble in his voice, and he tried to calm himself, taking deep breaths. He hugged Spike to him as tightly as he could. He felt Oz's hand on his back, rubbing lightly. _*Spike, please, please. You've got to wake up, love…*_

The cool body in his arms jerked suddenly, and Xander lifted his head. Spike twisted weakly in his grip, squinting his eyes tight, and a low moan came out of him. " _Spike!_ Hey, you ok? Spike - love - _talk_ to me..." 

"Bloody hell," Spike said. His voice was a thread, broken and rasping, and he winced and tried to swallow. "Need a drink, mate," he mumbled, and Oz scrambled up and went into the house. He came out a few seconds later with a beer - his or Xander's, it was half-empty. He knelt down and put it in Spike's hand. Xander propped him upright and Spike took a long drink, rubbing his throat.

"Ah...fuck. That was fuckin' horrible." Xander wondered if he meant the experience or the beer. His voice wasn't much better, be he seemed able to talk a little easier. "Ohh, my head..." Spike opened his eyes finally, and Xander felt a moment of panic when they tracked on nothing at all, dazed. Then his gaze sharpened, and Spike looked up at him. 

"Did it work, pet?"

"I - I dunno. Jack seemed to think it did. I guess - you'll have to test it." Xander helped Spike to sit up all the way and the vampire groaned and held his head. Oz went back into the house, and Xander heard him rummaging around. Spike just huddled there, rubbing his temples, and Xander held him, rubbing small circles in the small of his back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the light web fade from around Jack, and he too, struggled to sit up, looking unhappy and rubbing his forehead. Oz came back outside with a mug and handed it down to Xander.

"Figured he might need a little - help him knock the pain back." Xander sniffed - found blood. Spike was already blindly groping for the mug, so he held it for him, easing it up to his mouth. Spike drained it rapidly and then sat for a minute, waiting. Xander laid the mug aside in the grass and kissed Spike's temple.

"Better now? Can you get up, do you think?" 

Spike straightened abruptly, and Xander saw his mouth curling in a smile. "Oh yeah. Better. Thanks, mate." Spike nodded to Oz, who nodded back. "So, did it work, Sidhe?" Spike asked, climbing slowly to his feet, leaning on Xander. "As bad as that fuckin' hurt, it bloody well _better_ have worked." 

Jack was still sitting, hunched, and he squinted up at the three of them and then held out a hand. Spike leaned and hauled him upright with a jerk, and Jack yelped. "Fuck it, vampire, have a care! I reckon it worked. This miserable place - makes it harder to do things. You should test it. " Jack stumbled past them and into the house, and after a moment the other three followed, Spike leaning on Xander and Oz snatching up the bloody mug from the grass.

"Sit down and have a little more blood first, Spike."

"Aye, blood, and put this in." Jack was slumped in a chair, rooting through his knapsack. He pulled a bulbous brown clay bottle out. It was stoppered and tied much like the little pot of salve had been, and Jack picked at the coarse twine, undoing it with shaking fingers. Xander guided Spike back to his own chair, then sank down gratefully as Oz fixed another packet of blood. Jack finally got the twine off and uncorked the bottle, and a scent wafted out - sharp and alcoholic but overlaid with a warm smell of honey and almonds and something like clean, green grass. It was heady and delicious, and Xander's mouth watered for it. Spike's head came up, nostrils flared, and Jack smirked at him.

"Ever had any, vampire?" he rasped, and Spike shook his head. "In for a treat, then." Oz put the mug of blood on the table and Jack poured a generous dollop of the stuff into it. It was dark gold, and seemed to glow in the candle light. 

"Some all round - get more cups, eh?" Jack said, and Xander pointed to the right cabinet for Oz, who got three glasses down and settled finally into his chair. 

"What is it?" Oz whispered, and Jack laughed.

"It's the nectar of the gods, wolf. It's...blood of virgins and honey from the rock, it's manna and moonlight and all manner of things. 

_Currants and gooseberries,_  
_Bright-fire-like barberries,_  
_Figs to fill your mouth,_  
_Citrons from the South "_

Jack grinned at them, pouring a measure into each glass - more for himself, Xander noticed, but didn't really care. Jack set the bottle back on the table and picked up his glass - raised it a few inches, his expression going solemn for a moment. " _Slainte_ ," he said, and they copied him. 

" _Slahncha_ ," Oz and Xander stumbling a little over the unfamiliar word. They drank. The drink was cool on Xander's tongue - and then hot, sparkling with little tastes of mint and cinnamon and cloves. The path it traced to his belly was fiery, and a rush of prickling, delicious heat washed through him. He gasped, his eyes tearing, and Spike threw back his head and howled, laughing. Oz closed his eyes and laughed too, and Xander had to join him. Jack just grinned at them, re-corking the bottle and re-wrapping the twine, his eyes sparking red again, his bomber jacket back. 

"Oh, that was _good_ , mate. No wonder you lot don't share." Spike drained the last of his blood and wiped his hand across his mouth. He looked at Xander, eyes sparkling. "Gotta know, pet. Gotta test this." 

Xander looked back at him and nodded, holding out his hand. _*Please let this work. Fuck. And if it does...he might go. For good*_

_*Or kill us all, Harris*_

_*No. Pack. We'll survive*_ Xander waited, and Spike grasped his hand. The vampire squeezed, tentatively at first, and then harder, and suddenly pain shot through Xander's fingers as they were ground fiercely together.

"Fuck! Ease up!" Xander jerked his hand away, then froze, staring at Spike. 

Who stared back - who began to laugh, slightly hysterically. He leapt to his feet, knocking his chair back into the wall and _roared_. The demon lowered his face to them, eyes ablaze. "I'm _free_. I'm back. William the Bloody is alive and well." He laughed again, and the lucent golden eyes flashed at them, eerie, otherworldly. 

Jack rose also, shoving the bottle back into his knapsack and hoisting the knapsack onto his shoulder. "Then I am done here. This place - drags at me. I'm for the bonny road, me." He turned and began to walk out the door. 

Spike took a step after him. "I'll remember this, mate." Jack turned around and looked at him as the demon sank away. Spike's blue eyes were serious, calm and intent, and Jack nodded once.

"You may have to...Spike." He grinned, suddenly jaunty, and strode out the door and away, vanishing like a ghost into the shadow of the eucalyptus. Spike pounced on Xander, pulling him to his feet and kissing him devouringly, deeply. His hands worked up under Xander's shirt and caressed his back and Xander melted into him, tasting the blood and lingering flavor of Jack's drink, breathing deeply of the heady scent that was just Spike. 

_*Oh, love you, love you...don't leave me, Spike, don't...*_ Xander finally pulled away and Spike smiled at him - a smile full of love and desire, joy and excitement.

"Love you, pet. Love you so much."

"Love you too, Spike. I'm - I'm glad it worked." Spike's eyes darkened a little, and Xander leaned in and kissed him gently. "I _am_ glad it worked. I love you...nothing's changed that... nothing will." Spike hugged him fiercely and then he was gone, into the bedroom, and Xander knew what he was doing. He slowly sat back down, glancing ruefully at Oz who had sat silent all this while. There was a strange mix of fear and compassion on Oz's face, and he made a little gesture with his hands, shrugging.

Spike came back out of the bedroom, boots on his feet and practically ran into the living room to grab his duster. He snatched his cigarettes and lighter from the table and lit up, then stood staring down at Xander, his face serious, his eyes alight.

"I have to, pet. I have to know...for sure. And...I just...I bloody well _have_ to."

"I know you do, Spike. I really understand. Just...fuck... Don't make it so I have to identify any bodies tomorrow, okay? I don't think I could stand that." 

Spike bent and kissed him, hard, his free hand tangling in Xander's hair. "Promise, love," he whispered. He straightened and looked at Oz. "Keep an eye on him, right mate?" Oz nodded, and with a last look at Xander, Spike was gone. 

Xander looked down at his hands, noticing he was clenching them so tightly that his fingernails were starting to cut into his palms. Oz got up and got two more beers out of the 'fridge and settled back into his chair.

"You really need to tell me the whole story, Xander. I think we've got all night, don't you?" Xander looked up at Oz and smiled into his calm, green gaze. He nodded and took a small sip of the beer, and began.

"It started probably three years ago - you weren't a Scooby yet. When Spike was at the school that time, the parent-teacher thing? Well, Angel had this really great idea..."

 

 

_______________

Christina Rosetti - _Goblin Market_


	10. Payback

Spike stepped out onto the front porch of the house and simply stood there for a moment, breathing in the night air and trying to contain the screaming, frenzied demon that was scrabbling and howling inside him for control. The demon wanted to run through the streets; smash windows, destroy walls, set fire to the city. Drink until he was as warm as a living man and pull the heart from every human it met. 

Spike wanted something else. He began to walk - then run - heading straight into Sunnydale proper, searching. As he neared the UCS campus, he found what he was looking for. A college student stood on the sidewalk, fumbling drunkenly with a helmet. Parked beside him in the street was a motorcycle - one of the low-slung racing types that seemed to be all the rage for some rich boys. It was painted an unappealing mustard-yellow, but Spike knew its top speed was somewhere above 150, and that's what he wanted - needed. Speed. He bounded up the sidewalk and snatched the helmet from the boy, hurling it away with enough force to crack it in two as it struck a light pole. The boy gaped - drew in a breath to scream as the demon emerged and lunged.

Then Spike was drinking, drinking, the hot jet of arterial blood near-scalding on the back of his throat. The boy flailed at him, writhing, and Spike clamped down tighter, his fingers sinking into the boy's arms so deeply that bones cracked. The blood surged through him, laced with alcohol, sharp and heady with fear. The familiar, wanton heat of it - the tingling wave that rushed over him - was intoxicating, dizzying. A feeling at once both remembered and shockingly new. 

Spike groaned deep in his throat, arousal pounding through him. This was heat - freedom - _life_ ; delicious and heady. He pulled hard, forcing the last mouthfuls to come to him, listening as the _ta-tum_ of the heart stuttered - faded altogether. He wrenched his fangs from the boy's throat and roared to the night sky, sending echoes rolling up and down the street. He snapped the boy's neck with an easy twist of his hands and then frisked the body for keys and wallet. He found he was grinning maniacally - couldn't, in fact, stop himself.

_*He did it, he did it, Xander-love, you did it...brought me back, gave me back...everything. Everything. Love you, pet. Love you for it*_

Spike straddled the bike, glancing swiftly at unfamiliar controls, learning them. He put the key in the ignition and started the bike. The surging growl made him laugh out loud, and he gunned it away from the curb, heading out. Heading towards Highway 101. Towards a place to feed and regain his full strength without interruption; to hone skills that had gotten a tad rusty, of late. To deal out a little payback. He grinned savagely, hurling himself forward into the night, the air a solid wall to lean into, the roar of the bike lost behind him as he pushed it to its top speed. The highway stretched before him, silver-grey, broad and beckoning, and he remembered what Jack had said. 

_”I'm for the bonny road, me.”_ He laughed again. The bonny road was not for him. No, for him it was something else.

_"And see ye not yon braid, braid road, That lies across the lily leven?_  
_That is the Path of Wickedness, Though some call it the Road to Heaven..."_

The bike surged under him, as vital as a lover, and he crouched over it and flew forward into the night.

 

Xander finished telling Oz his story. Oz looked up from his fingers, and smiled up at Xander. 

"That's pretty cool," he said. And that was all. A few minutes later, Oz changed and curled himself into the corner of the couch, nose to tail, sighing heavily into sleep. Xander just laughed, not really expecting a scene from _Oz_ , but surprised nonetheless at the utter calm. 

_*Maybe that's all to the good, though. Couldn't really take a scene right now*_

Xander took a shower and cleaned up a little and waited. He lay down in bed and stared at the ceiling and when his alarm woke him two hours later he was alone, and the sun was coming up, and Spike wasn't there. Xander felt the first twist of fear in his belly, and he fought it. Work was a daze, and the ritual of paycheck and weekend plans passed him by, an inconsequential murmur that couldn't break through the tumbling, frantic thoughts in his head. Even Manny asked if he was alright, and Xander barely managed to be coherent enough to satisfy the old demon. But inside he was babbling, and the fear was getting worse. 

_*What if he ran into Buffy, out on patrol, and couldn't resist? What if she... What if he got captured by the Initiative again? They're even hotter to capture and kill now that Professor Walsh is dead... What if he just - left? Went to find Dru -*_

_*Doesn't want her. Wants us. Wants pack*_

_*But we're not...I'm not...what if I'm not enough?*_

_*Don't panic, Harris. It's only one night. One day. And don't you think we'd know if he were dead, or...? Remember feeling his pain?*_

He got home and went through his routine of shower and dinner, barely aware of Oz. The werewolf said almost nothing, watching him with dark and speculative eyes. When the sun was gone and Xander was sitting, silent, in the blackness of the kitchen, Oz lit candles and then slipped away, wolf again. Xander knew Oz was looking for Spike, but he couldn't rouse himself to even say thank you. He went to bed, and the shivery fear came back again and again, waking him with formless, forgotten dreams. No work the next day and he found himself pacing his house, too restless to sit, or talk to Oz. Too scared to think. 

Oz made a dinner Xander could barely force past his teeth, and when Oz went out again, tail tucked, Xander thought it was with a certain relief. This time Xander forced himself to get up, do a few things; laundry, cleaning. He sanded smooth the gouges Spike's nails had made in the table, running his fingers over and over them. He thought about changing the sheets - sweat and sex and wolf hairs - but couldn't bear to lose the scent of the vampire that the cotton still held. In the end he simply curled up in the middle of the bed, pulling the covers around him, burrowing into Spike's pillow and biting his lip until it bled in an effort not to cry. 

_*Won't do that. Won't. That would be...saying he's really gone, and he isn't, so I won't, I won't*_

Sunday, it turned out, they had to go to Giles' house. Oz wanted to talk to Willow - he'd put it off too long, he said, and owed her an explanation. So they went, and Xander sat on Giles' couch and listened to Giles brief them on the 'situation'. Faith had come and gone, trying some sort of body-switch with Buffy that Tara had helped to foil. Professor Walsh's experiment now had a name - Adam - and it was lurking, killing people, recruiting possibly. Or maybe just hiding. Buffy had gone to LA to warn Angel about Faith. And Riley had finally moved into an apartment, still reeling from the discoveries surrounding Maggie's death. Still recovering from being drugged. 

_*Wow. Missed a lot. Now will Buffy finally get the hell out of bed with these damn soldiers? Look what they've done - some kind of Frankentronic creature roaming around...drugging their own men... Please tell me we're not on 'their' side anymore...*_

He listened to Oz explain in his soft voice why he had left with Xander and Spike - why he was staying at Xander's house. Listened to Anya ask him if he wanted a soda, listened to Willow babble out hurt and guilt and love and sorrow like an upended cup, pouring over them all. He heard Willow finally admit that she and Tara were together. Giles started a bit, but Oz only smiled and Xander wondered if he'd ever be able to tell Willow about Spike. If Giles would smile at them and murmur ' _very nice_ ' for Xander and Spike. 

_*Not in this lifetime, Harris. Wishful thinking*_

_*Maybe. But he's smart...he...if I told him about Jack, he'd...*_

_*Think you were possessed again. Or under some thrall. Give it up, Harris.*_

_*Shut up. Miss him...miss him...*_

He jumped a little when Tara sat down next to him, putting her hand lightly on his wrist.

"A-are you ok. X-xander?" she asked, and he mustered up a wane smile for her.

"Sure Tara. Guess you saved the day, doing that aura-thing with Faith, huh? Good for you." Tara blushed, looking pleased and flustered, and Xander smiled at her for real this time, feeling the stirrings of affection for this shy, powerful girl. He'd _looked_ at her, the day after the Gentlemen had been destroyed, and had seen a soul that was radiant, powerful, and utterly without guile. Her power came from the earth, and he could see how gentle - and how fierce - she could be. A true 'earth mother'. 

"You're...m-mmissing someone, Xander. I can s-see that in _your_ aura. Spike isn't h-here, is he?"

Xander stared at her, incredulous, then looked quickly down at his hands, which were clenched tightly on his knees. 

_*Get a grip, Harris. Calm down or she'll know everything!*_

_*She wouldn't...say anything...*_

_*You can't know that! This is need-to-know, soldier!*_

_*I think she already knows*_

_*Pack. No harm,*_ the hyena insisted, and Xander looked back up at her; saw the sweetest smile on her face, that faded under his frightened stare.

"Tara - I don't...I'm not...Spike..." He trailed off helplessly, flinching a little from the silent tirade of protest and invective the soldier was hurling at him.

"I-it's ok, Xander. I w-won't tell anybody. I...s-saw you two th-that night, outside of Lowell House." 

Xander groaned, shutting his eyes. _*Fuck! We should have been more careful, should have…*_

"Your a-auras were really...you l-looked right together, Xander. I th-think it's okay, y-you two." Xander just stared at her, and then he reached out and grasped her hand, startling her.

"Tara - thank you. I - Spike is..." He shook his head and smiled. "Just, thanks. I'm...glad you know. And please don't say anything. I think - it's not a good time for earth-shattering announcements, you know?"

"I n-know. I won't say anything. I'm happy for you - both of you. You make each other  
h-happy."

"Yeah. We do." Xander gave a last, light squeeze to her hand and then let her go, and she got up and unobtrusively made her way back to Willow, who had finally stopped babbling at Oz and was hugging him. Oz's eyes were black, over her shoulder, and he broke away gently but firmly, retreating. Giles watched him with concern, idly stroking the cover of a book.

"I really need to go now, Willow. I'll be around. I can help with this - Adam thing, probably. Anything to get the Initiative out of Sunnydale. We'll talk, just not... I'll be around, okay, Willow?" Oz was uncomfortable, but Willow didn't seem to notice and she nodded, wiping her eyes, smiling gratefully at Tara as the blonde took her hand. 

"Okay, Oz. I'm - glad you're back. Really I am. And we're - we're all glad you've decided to help us. Right, Giles? Always good to have one more on the team."

"Yes - yes it is." Giles stepped up to Oz and offered his hand, and Oz shook it solemnly. "When we get more information about this 'Adam', we'll call you and Xander. All right?"

"Sure, Giles. Sounds good." Xander stood up and went over to Oz, cocking an eyebrow, and Oz nodded. 

"We're gonna go on home, then. I guess - call me when Buffy gets back, tell me if anything...new is happening," Xander said. They said their goodbyes, and Xander and Oz left. Halfway back home, driving on autopilot, Xander jumped a little when Oz spoke.

"So...Tara knows. About you and Spike."

"Y-yeah. How'd you..." 

"I could hear her."

"Oh." Xander laughed shakily. "Gotta get used to all these people with super-powers around me." Oz smiled - touched Xander's shoulder fleetingly with his hand. Xander glanced over at his calm profile - at the hair he'd re-hennaed the day before to a deep, rich auburn that glowed in the gilding light of the setting sun.

"How do you feel about - everything? Spike. That whole thing with...Jack."

"You mean, how do I feel now that William the Bloody is back?" Oz's voice was level but the look he shot Xander was full of some emotion and Xander flinched a little.

"Yeah. I mean - I guess you're okay with the concept of me and Spike. But...do you think...I should have left that whole chip thing alone?" 

Oz sighed, bringing one foot up onto the seat of the truck and putting his chin on his knee, fingers absently toying with an ankle-bracelet of leather and glass beads. "You're right - you and Spike as a couple, two guys - that doesn't bother me. Me and Devon go back a long way and - we've always been...close." Oz studied his nails for a moment - chipped blue polish instead of black - and Xander felt a little clutch of longing that almost cancelled out the shock of what Oz had just said.

"You and… _Devon_? Really? But he's always got those...groupies." 

Oz laughed. "Yeah. He's not...well, let's just say that Devon thinks monogamy is okay if you practice it serially." Xander laughed, too, but then Oz's smile faded and he knew that he might not like what came next.

"As for Jack - that whole scene. I mean - wow. Gotta say he gave you something really cool. I'd like to see what you see, sometime. That'd be..." Oz shook his head, and pulled his other leg up, wrapping his arms around his shins. "And...what he did for Spike...I can't say I'm surprised that you asked. You love him. You want to - take care of him. And he was hurting. I understand that. I dunno what Spike'll do. I hope he's like you say. I hope he'll come back and not...kill us all. But that isn't anything we can really know, is it? 'Cause, people are complex, and he's got a person _and_ a demon to deal with..." 

Oz rubbed his chin on his knees, thinking. "I don't blame you for wanting to help him. The Initiative was all about power. And what they did to him was...vindictive. Like taking a tiger and pulling out all its teeth and claws and then letting it loose. I want them to go down as badly as Spike does." Oz shifted a little, looking over at Xander, and Xander just drove, amazed at the words that had poured out of him.

"I don't think I've ever heard you talk that much at one time." Xander said finally, and Oz just grinned at him.

"I want it to work, Xander. Just like you do. But it's kind of a wait and see thing, you know? If he's - okay with us, then that's cool. If he's not...you know I won't let him hurt Willow - any of them."

"Yeah. I know. But when I look at him - _really_ look - what I see - what I _feel_ is so strong. He's nothing like the vamps we dust out on patrol, Oz. He's so different. I just...I trust him."

"Trust is nice." There was a long silence, and Oz looked out the window for a minute - looked back. "He'll be back, Xander."

"Yeah. Thanks, Oz." Oz just shrugged, smiling a little, and reached to turn on the radio. "Are you - okay, Oz? I mean, everything that happened...how are you?" 

Oz fiddled with the radio, finally getting some kind of acoustic NPR-type thing, and settled back in the seat. "I guess I'm okay, Xander. I really want to put the Initiative in the ground. I learned some meditation, in Tibet? It helps keeps the wolf...at bay. It keeps the Initiative at bay, too." Oz's eyes were clear and steady and calm and the lack of emotion more than anything clued Xander in. 

_*Somebody else with nightmares. Fucking bastards*_

"You'll - tell me if you need...anything. Right?"

"Yeah. I will." Oz grinned at him, and they drove the rest of the way home in companionable silence.

 

Monday morning, waking up alone, Xander felt the depression coming back. Oz slept in a loose curl of brown and russet fur on the couch. He'd said that the lumps didn't bother the wolf so much. Xander was glad he was there, if only because it gave him something to focus on.

_*Gotta be quiet, don't wake him. Wonder if he'd like to try some kind of chicken for dinner or if we should just fall back on pizza? Remember to get more laundry soap, we're almost out...*_

Xander managed to make it through the day, and felt something like relief, going home. He was looking forward to seeing Oz - just talking a little, maybe, or listening to Oz play his guitar. Something to distract him. He'd trusted Spike not to kill his friends - and he hadn't. But Spike being gone - made him second-guess everything he'd done. All his reasons seemed - faulty, now. Putting his trust in a vampire just seemed stupid. Even one with a soul. Look at Angel, for God's sake. But then he'd think about Spike in bed with him - Spike standing in the glowing corona of his souls, love and need and desire and tenderness flowing out from him. Spike aching with loss over Drusilla and Spike looking him in the eye and telling Xander he was loved. And the trust was there again, just like that. And that only made that void of not-Spike worse, and deeper, and darker. 

He parked his truck and got out, stretching, hauling his tool belt and laundry soap out of the seat. At the door he paused and got a sheaf of mail out of the box attached to the front wall and carried it inside. He dumped soap and tool belt on the kitchen floor, tossed the mail down and got a cold soda before he slumped gratefully into a chair. They'd all had to pitch in and do some heavy lifting today, cleaning up part of the site so that the buyers could see it. Putting in finishing touches. Xander was sore and tired, but proud of how well his crew had worked - and that Manny had put it all in _his_ hands, no questions asked. 

Oz came out of the back of the house, a pile of shirts in his hands. "Hey, Xander," he said, and Xander waved at him, gulping soda.

"Oz. I'm just gonna get pizza, okay? I'm so worn out I can't even think about experimental cooking."

"Fine with me." Oz lay the shirts on the table and started folding them, and Xander picked up the mail, shuffling through it.

_*Bill. Bill. Junk. Previous occupant. **Any** occupant. Oh good, bras and panties are on sale...*_ He flipped past yet another gaudily-colored circular and then froze. He went back to the piece of mail, heart pounding. It was a postcard, slightly crumpled around the edges. On it in one corner was a scallop shell, with a bright red strawberry superimposed over it. And the words _'Oxnard - California's Strawberry Coast'._

Underneath was a view of the Channel Islands Harbor at sunset - Xander recognized it. He and Thomas had strolled there once, hand in hand, watching the gulls. Mouth suddenly dry, Xander turned the postcard over. On the other side were four or five lines in the beautiful 'birthday card' script that was Spike's. Xander blinked, his eyes refusing to focus. Then finally, he read the words there.

_"As a perfume doth remain_  
_In the folds where it hath lain,_  
_So the thought of you, remaining_  
_Deeply folded in my brain,_  
_Will not leave me; all things leave me;_  
_You remain."_

His heart did a peculiar little extra thump, and he took a deep, deep breath. _*Oh god, oh...god... He's alive, he's...in fucking **Oxnard** , what the fuck? But he's alive...*_

"You okay, Xander?" Xander blinked, focusing, and looked up at Oz, who was staring at him, frowning just a little. "Xander?"

"Yeah. Uh. I'm - I'm fine, Oz. It's..." He couldn't think of what to say, so he shoved the postcard at Oz. He noticed that his hand was shaking. Oz took the postcard and looked at the front and ' _humfed_ ', so much like the wolf that Xander felt a hysterical little giggle rising up into his throat. He choked it back and took a hasty swig of soda.

Oz turned the postcard over and glanced at Xander for permission, then read it. A slow smile drew up the corners of his mouth, and he handed the card back. "That's nice. I guess that's from Spike?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. From Spike." Xander realized he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care.

"Why Oxnard?" Oz asked, folding his last shirt.  
"I dunno. I was down there, last summer... Oh." Xander sat bolt upright, a sudden thought coming to him. _*Oh no. He wouldn't. I mean...would he? I told him the story and he...oh fuck*_ "I think maybe... I dunno." 

Oz gave him a searching look, as if he thought Xander knew more, but then he nodded and wandered away with his shirts, putting them in the open duffle that had become a permanent fixture in the living room. He'd refused to let Xander clean out a drawer for him - Xander's dresser was pretty small and he really didn't have a place to put any stuff he moved. Oz just told him it was fine, and that in Tibet he'd only had two shirts and one pair of pants, so this was really like the Ritz, and he didn't mind. 

Xander sat at the table and read his postcard over and over, forgetting how tired he was, and how hungry. He barely noticed Oz ordering pizza, turning on the radio. 

_*God, Spike's down in Oxnard, he's…*_

_*Hunting*_ the hyena grumbled, and Xander knew it was so. Spike was hunting. He finally noticed the music playing, and he realized that it was almost dark, and the food was there, and he was starved. The song played on and the chorus made Xander shiver.

_"And I find it kind of funny... I find it kind of sad…_  
_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had... "_

He got up, and got another soda for himself and one for Oz, and was glad when the song ended.

The next day he got two postcards. _*Maybe he mailed one on Sunday. Spike...come back,  
love...*_ The second was something that seemed vaguely familiar. He was pretty sure he'd read it in school, but so much had taken precedence over studying - saving the world from certain doom and all that - that it was only a fleeting thought.

_"Wild Nights! Wild Nights! were I with thee_  
_Wild Nights would be our luxury._  
_Futile the winds to a heart in port, Gone with the compass_  
_Gone with the chart--Rowing in Eden._  
_Ah the Sea! Might I but moor-- Tonight in thee."_

The third was as unfamiliar as the first, but it ached with the same loneliness that Xander felt.

_"Western wind, when wilt thou blow,_  
_The small rain down can rain?_  
_Christ, if my love were in my arms_  
_And I in my bed again! "_

_*The same, the same for me... Please, whatever you're doing up there - what I **know** you're doing - don't, don't, just leave it and come **home**...*_

A couple of times, during the long days that Spike was gone, Xander thought he was going crazy. He'd wake up in the night certain he'd heard Spike's voice - felt him, right there in the bed with him. But always it was just a dream...or wishful thinking. Once, at work, he'd suddenly started upright from the two-by-sixes he was nailing, fear washing over him, certain Spike had cried out his name. But he blinked at the sun pouring down over him, and the hive-like bustle of the site, and knew it wasn't Spike. At least, it wasn't Spike _there_...it was as if... 

_*As if he's in my head - like I'm hearing him. Really must be crazy. Unless it's some kind of freaky vampire thing. I think I need to check out some of Giles' books. Won't that be fun*_  
Wednesday was Iggy Pop, from that movie, and it made Xander grin all night. Thursday was something amazing and unfamiliar again, and Xander wondered how Spike could possibly remember so much _stuff_ when he couldn't, apparently, remember to rinse blood out of his own mug or wipe his boots off.

_*The Selective Memory of the Evil Undead: Theories and a Case Study*_ Xander thought, and snickered over his carry-out curried chicken. 

_"The incredible beauty of joy_  
_Stars with fire the joining of lips, O let our loves too_  
_Be joined, there is not a maiden_  
_Burns and thirsts for love_  
_More than my blood for you, by the shore of seals while the wings_  
_Weave like a web in the air_  
_Divinely superfluous beauty.”_

Oz thought he recognized that - something about the style - the subject - made him think he knew it, and Xander was startled out of a daze while not-really-watching a ' _Law & Order_' re-run by Oz smacking his hand on his knee and saying "Robinson Jeffers!" with this huge smile on his face.

"What?"

"The postcard today. It's Robinson Jeffers. He lived up in Carmel. Cool. I wonder how Spike knows his stuff? Doesn't seem like...evil undead poetry to me."

"And you'd be the expert on evil undead poetry?" Xander grinned at him and they had a very… _different_ sort of discussion. All about the kind of poetry vampires _should_ like, as opposed to what Spike, apparently, _did_ like. Xander didn't actually know a lot of poetry, but Oz did. Because, Oz said, it helped him to write songs when he got into the cadences and word pictures of poetry. He even quoted a little for Xander, and it made Xander feel a little stupid, and a little excited at the same time. Xander wanted to know poetry, too - to know who Robinson Jeffers or Oscar Wilde or Ezra Pound were. He decided to go to the library the next day.

Friday's postcard somehow brought tears to Xander's eyes. He didn't know why, particularly, and he wiped his eyes roughly while Oz poured a glass of milk and they settled to a rather haphazard dinner of cereal and toast. _*Gotta go to the store tonight. Spike in the changing room...maybe we'll go to a different store...*_

_"But if you ever come to a road where danger_  
_Or guilt or anguish or shame's to share._  
_Be good to the lad who loves you true,_  
_And the soul that was born to die for you,_  
_And whistle and I'll be there…"_

They ended up going to the same store, and Xander felt the depression settle on him again, as he remembered that night and the nights that followed. It hadn't been that long - only four months, almost five, since Spike had stumbled through Giles' door, starving and desperate. And a lot of the time after that he'd spent fighting with Spike, or ignoring him, or being ignored.

_*How can I feel this way in such a short time? Seems...too fast. It's crazy. But...miss him, miss him...*_

_*Wanted him for two years. Loved him for two years. It's not too fast. It was too slow*_  
Xander was amazed that the soldier would say such a thing, but the soldier was straightforward, if a bit schizo. He lay in bed that night reading a library book - a collection of Jeffer's poetry - and while the words about granite and pines, the sea and hawks, stone cutters and seals ran and blurred together on the page, he remembered... A night in the Basement of Doom, his parents upstairs screaming like the damned, hurling invective and bottles and god knew what else. 

And Xander had cringed down on his couch, horrified and ashamed and flinching, waiting. Waiting to hear that drawling, caressing voice stroke across him with razors and acid, telling him what he knew already - worthless, useless, and wasn't he going to be just like them - already just like them - spoilt blood and not a chance in hell to escape it. But Spike had stood up and stamped into his boots and pulled on his duster, talking about getting a beer and playing a game of pool. Then he'd stood in the doorway and looked at Xander as if he were a complete idiot. 

"You comin' or what, mate?" he'd snapped, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke toward Xander - eyebrow cocked, lips smirking. Xander had scrambled to put on his sneakers and they'd played pool and drunk beer and basically acted like friends. And Spike hadn't said a word, not one word, about his parents. 

Xander looked up at the mirror over his dresser, where six garish postcards and one photograph were stuck. _*Maybe he felt the same. Maybe he felt...something for me, too, that long ago. Only took a couple weeks after that for me to kiss him. Mmmm...that kiss ... Spike, Spike, come home*_

Xander fell asleep on the book, dreaming about storms and seals and white, arrow-winged gulls. 

 

_______________

Child's _Ballads - Thomas the Rhymer_  
Arthur Symons - _As A Perfume_  
Tears for Fears - _Mad World_  
Emily Dickinson - _Wild Nights_  
Anonymous, 16th Century - _Lover in Winter Plaineth for the Spring_  
Robinson Jeffers - _Divinely Superfluous Beauty_  
A. E. Housman - _More Poems_


	11. Promise

Spike flew, the motorcycle like solid thunder between his thighs, the sea-salt air slicing around him, cold and heavy. He'd stolen a CD player and headphones and was blasting Buzzcocks straight into his skull. He roared the words along with Shelley, swooping the bike from lane to lane. It was almost three a.m., and the traffic was light. Spike grinned. Home. He was going home. Xander was there, waiting for him 

_*Please be there love. Had to do this. Had to get out, get back into my game...collect a debt. Please be there*_ , and he was eager to arrive. He gunned the bike faster still, demon's eyes behind wrap-around shades easily seeing the route.

_"I used to only want but now I need_  
_To get by with what I got but now I need_  
_I need_  
_I used to only want but now I need_  
_I need sex ... I need love_  
_I need drink ... I need drugs_  
_I need food ... I need cash_  
_I need you to love me back"_

He'd finished up in Oxnard late Thursday night. Then he'd driven south, down to LA, in search of replacements for his trademark railroad spikes. Going out of his range seemed the smart thing to do. He didn't want anyone linking him to anything. At least, not yet. He'd driven into LA in the pale lemon light of almost-dawn and holed up in a cheap motel, putting his last postcard in the mailbox on the corner. _*Hope he liked those. Kinda...poufy. But I had to let him know I was still alive somehow*_

Then he'd slept, and dreamed of Xander - called his name so loud he'd woken himself. It was only mid-afternoon, but sleep had been elusive and he'd ended up watching TV until the sun went down. He'd stared at the phone and thought about calling Xander - had been thinking about it every hour, every day. But he'd had work to do - something that had to be done, even if the need was only in his mind. A spot of revenge on four men who'd touched _*mine*_ Xander and hurt him. He didn't want to talk to Xander about it on the phone. Time enough for talk later. If Xander would listen. 

That night in L.A. he'd gone out, leaving his duster behind, finding an easy meal in a dark corner of a club _*oh, the blood, makes me whole, makes me...*_

He'd taken the bright white shirt the food had been wearing. Then he'd gone into one of those rich-folk home improvement places. _*And why in hell is this place open at ten o'clock at night?*_ Surprisingly, there _had_ been spikes there - about half the size of real railroad spikes, but solid and deadly all the same. Spike had looked them over, but then decided on something…newer. Eight inch long galvanized steel, as big around as his index finger. And _twisted_. Spiral nails, the box said. Love at first sight. 

Spike got two dozen and walked jauntily outside, ignoring the alarm as he exited the store, and knocking aside with a casual backhand the security guard who came running. He made his way back to the bike, shedding the stolen shirt _*not much of a disguise but better than a long leather coat in this weather*_ getting his duster and hitting the road. Pushed the bike up to top speed and just _gone_ , leaving the lights of LA behind, leaving Oxnard behind, feeling the subtle, warping aura of the Hellmouth stretch out and pull him in. 

_*Going home, going home. Can't wait to feel my boy around me, on me, beneath me...heat and sweat and sawdust smell, sweet and musk*_ He undulated on the saddle of the bike, the vibration sending delicious tingles through his groin and belly - making his hard-on even harder.  


_"I need ... I need ... I need ... I need_  
_The things I used to crave for now I need_  
_Have made me just a slave for what I need_  
_I need_  
_Yes I am just a slave for what I need"_

When the _Welcome to Sunnydale_ sign came into view, Spike considered running the bike into it but decided that arriving home with cuts and broken bones would probably not make for a very fun homecoming. He ditched the bike near the ruins of the old high school and walked the rest of the way. He was back. He was once again the Big Bad, and the vamps and demons of Sunnydale would soon know it. And so would the soldiers. Whether they knew it was _him_ or not, he was going to make his presence felt.

As he got closer to home, he walked slower and slower, thinking. He wanted - more than anything - to find the Slayer and her Watcher, and slowly repay them both for the humiliations he had endured at their hands. But... 

_*Xander will hate that. He's not happy with them, but they're still his mates... Bloody hell. Not gonna endure any shite from the Slayer. Hope Xander can talk to her, 'cause I might just have to... Fuck.*_

He stopped altogether, looking down the street to the cul-de-sac and _*home, home*_ He pulled a cigarette out and lit it, then resumed his walk, even slower then before. He _was_ going to get the soldiers - the doctors - anyone he could find that had been a part of the Initiative. And he wasn't going to show them any mercy whatsoever. Xander knew that. But... The Judge had been right, when he'd said he and Dru had 'stunk of humanity'. They had - _he_ had, and still did - always would. It was that soul Xander could see - William the Poet still looking out of William the Bloody's eyes from time to time. Spike had never seen a reason to give up his passions - his obsessions. Had seen no reason not to love and live exactly as his mind, his will _*and soul, apparently*_ dictated. 

Somehow, knowing the soul was there - that the human part was real _*not just something Dru passed on - madness from her blood to mine. Always thought that's what it was, that so-familiar voice…*_ it gave him...permission. To love Xander like he did, hopelessly and completely. It gave him permission to - make exceptions. To act as other vampires would not - very possibly _could_ not. He'd always done that - always been an aberration that Darla, Angelus - the Master - could barely abide. Dru had the Sight - she was allowed her strangeness, because her talent was real, and useful. And because Angelus' cruelly deft hand had made her so. But _his_ strangeness...had only pissed the Family off. And he'd wrapped it around himself like armor and used it like a sword and a wedge and a _bludgeon_ , even. Anything to maintain _himself_. 

The demon had given him the means - speed and strength, immortality and amorality - to do anything, be anything. And he'd warped the demon to his will and fought its rage and its mindlessness to a standstill. _He_ used _it_ \- and never again would he be that beaten, heartsick, stumbling fool of a boy. It was true, what he'd told Xander - nothing and no one owned him, not even the demon. And for Xander he would do... _*Anything. Everything. I'll give him this because I **can**. Me. Spike. Who backs away from nothing, and bows down to no one. Ever again. My lovely boy saw to that*_ It _wasn't_ some blood-borne madness that made him like this. It was _himself_. And that had a very deep and satisfying feel to it. He was...better...then he ever thought he could be - and beneath no one, at all.

No, he wouldn't kill them, and Xander would believe it was love and the soul and that Spike was really a good guy, down deep. Spike would know he wasn't good at all, but that he could make exceptions to every rule, and be what he chose to be. And right now and forever, he chose to be the vampire that Xander loved.

He finished his smoke and tossed the butt away, then went silently up the steps to the door, hoping to find it open and not chained and locked as was Xander's usual habit. The knob turned easily under his hand, and he slipped inside. The wolf was there, sprawled on the couch, and Oz lifted his muzzle, eyes glittering, and made a tiny sound, a sort of interrogatory whine that made Spike grin.

"Wolfling. Better close your ears, mate," Spike whispered. He took his boots off and left them by the door, shed his duster to the couch-back and ghosted through the house to the bedroom, undoing his belt. He stood in the doorway for a moment, only watching, drinking in the sight of _*my own, my boy*_ Xander was curled in the center of the bed, a pillow bunched to his chest, a book laying face-down on the other pillow, fat candle half-burned on the night table. 

In the golden light he glowed; sable hair as sleek as a mink, with glints of red and gold in it. His dark eyes were shuttered behind thick lashes, his lush, mobile mouth open very slightly. His skin looked like the softest tanned suede, and Spike itched to touch it, re-learn it; taste and smell and have every inch of it. Spike took his clothing off silently, dropping them where he stood, and moved to the side of the bed. He could smell Xander; the honeyed warmth of him, salt and sweet, clean wood and a little clean sweat, the citrus soap from the shower. Spike shivered all over; scenting him, achingly hard, his thighs trembling with want and his breath coming in little pants. He slipped into the bed - into the laval heat from Xander's body, the scent of _*love mine safety home home*_

 

Xander was dreaming. In his dream, he was running with Willow, heading for the Bronze. Inside was a confusion of bodies - screaming, darting figures in the dim light. And then Jesse was there, and then they were face to face, and then the jolt of the stake, going in, and not Jesse's face now - Spike's face - dissolving, flying apart, ribboning down in scarves of ash and dust. In his dream, Spike screamed as he died, and Xander screamed as well, a choking cry - _NO!_

And woke shivering all over, panting, his heart pounding fit to burst. And cool, cool arms, holding him tight, cool hands stroking over his chest, lips against his ear and a voice, purring out words of comfort, words of love. _*Spike? Can't be...still dreaming...am I? Fuck, don't want this to be a dream...*_

Xander opened his eyes - took a long, long breath, and it was there; the scent of him - leather and smoke, the cool spices of his hair, his sex, his unliving, demonic flesh. Flesh that Xander wanted to taste, to touch...to crawl inside. He pushed back against the chilled hardness of chest and belly and cock and thighs, and a sound escaped him, a low moan of want. He fought to turn, to see, and the arms loosened, helping him, and Spike was there, just there; fathomless eyes and ink-slash of eyebrows, the face of a cathedral angel and the wickedly smiling mouth of Lucifer himself. _*Home, he's home, he's here…*_

"Ssss..." Xander tried to say Spike's name and couldn't - found his teeth were chattering so hard he could barely make a sound at all.

"Xander, love...you all right?" Spike's voice was honey, was a growl of pure arousal, and Xander shuddered, clenching his jaw, trying to get control. Spike's hair was tousled and waved over his head, and one lock fell forward, curling beside the scar, beside ridiculously girlish lashes.

"S-ss- _Spike!_ "

"Yes love..." That smile - that smile of pure want, and oh _fuck_... Xander moved, faster then he thought possible. He took Spike's face in his hands and kissed him. Kissed him as hard and long and as deeply as he could; shaking, seeking out every inch of the cool, wet flesh - bruising the lips beneath his and sucking greedily on the flickering tongue. Arousal coursing through him in waves, hot and cold. He finally had to pull away, gasping, and Spike's lips were swollen and gleaming, his eyes nearly black.

Xander ran his fingers back through Spike's hair, down his neck to shoulders and back. Spike moved then, rolling Xander beneath him and kissing him back, just as hard, as desperate. His cock was hard and slick with pre-come, rubbing over Xander's own erection, and Xander thrust up against him, fighting to get his legs free, to wrap them around Spike's hips and cling with his arms, nails digging into the satin flesh. They were both moaning now, panting, and Xander wanted….

"Spike - need you love - need you _now_...in me... Spike...want you to fuck me...have me... Spike, Spike, love..." His own voice was gasping and hoarse with desire, his words coming out between kisses and bites and licks from the mouth of the vampire.

"Yesss," Spike hissed, grinding into him, biting along his jaw, his throat. Xander arched upwards hard and cried out when Spike's teeth grazed the near-invisible mark he'd made a week ago. He was trembling on the edge - had never felt so needy, so wanton. He spread his legs as far as they would go, urging Spike to do something, do anything.

"Wait love, hav'ta get...somethin'..." Spike lunged for the side table, fumbling in the drawer, and Xander licked his tongue over Spike's nipples, rough rasps like cat, tasting the silken flesh, biting so that Spike gasped aloud. Then Spike was moving, kneeling up, and Xander reached down to stroke the jutting hardness of the vampire's cock, bringing a slicked finger up to his mouth and sucking off the savory fluid that was smeared there. Spike hovered over him, his eyes gone gleaming gold. 

"Hurry Spike - just do it, I want you, want you in me….”

"Won't hurt you, love, wait, wait..." Spike smeared lube on his fingers and wormed them into  
tight, grasping flesh. Xander felt the fire building impossibly fast in his balls - his belly. He grasped  
Spike's biceps, urging him forward, arching upwards, unable to keep himself still. Spike was panting now, eyes fixed on Xander.

"Oh _fuck_ , Xander...so hot..." Spike moaned. When Spike thrust a third finger into him - twisting, rubbing, the orgasm that rolled over Xander was like a wave of lightning. A rush of tingling sparks surged the length of Xander's body, and he cried out, hands tightening convulsively on Spike's arms, hard enough to bruise. Spike leaned down and fastened his mouth on Xander's cock, sucking the last of the creamy fluid from him, licking it from where it had spattered on belly and chest. Xander lay panting, writhing, still impaled on the caressing fingers, and he groaned when Spike withdrew.

"Xander...so sweet, so fuckin' perfect..." Spike pressed forward, twisting his hips and sinking into Xander, one long glide, his head thrown back and his mouth open in a soundless cry. Xander shuddered, already growing hard again, and he pulled Spike down to him, his thighs against Spike's ribs, his calves on the trembling shoulders. He wanted Spike as deep, as close as he could possibly get him, and Spike began to thrust into him hard, rubbing over and over that one place, making Xander gasp aloud.

 _*Oh fuck, want...want more...oh good, so good...closer love, deeper love, more...*_ Xander wasn't aware he was chanting aloud, his voice a whispered rasp. Spike dipped down and pushed at Xander's thighs with his arms, pounding into him, and Xander bit at the vampire's mouth, his lips - threw his head back suddenly, stretching his throat out, pulling Spike closer and the demon snarled. Spike bent to the arched column of flesh, snuffling over it, tasting. Without warning he sank his fangs deep into the muscle at the top of Xander's shoulder - a harder, more savage bite then he'd ever given. 

Xander screamed aloud, his body dissolving into a frenzy of desperate thrusts and Spike's did the same, pounding flesh and bone hard enough to bruise. Xander sank his nails into Spike's back, clawing him closer... _*need need oh fuck I neeeed!*_

He snaked his head around, pure instinct, and sank his own, blunter teeth into Spike's neck, as hard as he could, tearing flesh and feeling the sudden tingle on his lips and tongue as the vampire's blood ran into his mouth. It was like an electric current had suddenly opened between them - mouth to cock to mouth - incandescent and pure. Spike arched hard into him, whipping his own head away from Xander's body, roaring into the spangled darkness. Xander could feel Spike's orgasm, the shuddering spasms of it pumping cool semen into him and his own body did the same, pouring out his ecstasy between them. Spike collapsed onto him, panting, and Xander wrapped trembling legs around his waist, arms around his neck, pulling him close and closer, unwilling to let even a millimeter of air come between them. He kissed Spike, all over his face, darting little kisses between gasps for air, little licks of his tongue to gather the taste of the vampire to him, his hands ceaselessly roving over and over the arched back, the perfect curve of buttock.

"Spike, you're home, you're here, you _bastard_ , don't you ever do that to me again, Spike...  
Spike..." Xander whispered to him, and his whole body felt...new. Felt as if he'd just wakened from a long and restful sleep and the tingly, drowsy feeling was peace and satiation, and comfort. Spike was licking the bite now, cleaning away all traces of blood, sending little sparks of pleasure along Xander's spine, down into his belly.

"Xanderrr," he purred, licking, kissing, and Xander ran his hands up over Spike's shoulders and throat to his head - pushed his fingers back through Spike's hair and then jerked the vampire's head up, glaring into startled lapis eyes.

"Don't you fuckin' _dare_ ever do that - I thought you were _dead_ for three days! Or back in the damn Initiative!" Xander gave the vampire's head a little shake, feeling tears welling. He blinked them back, pulled Spike down to kiss him again, biting Spike's lower lip so that the vampire hissed in startlement. Xander licked at the welling of scarlet blood there, feeling it sizzle through his mouth like champagne.

"You don't _ever, ever_ just leave, Spike. Ever. I can't do that. I can't stand that." 

Spike's eyes were golden in the candle-light, glimmering, and he ducked his head down into Xander's neck and nuzzled there for a moment. "You - didn't you get the postcards, love?" He asked finally, and Xander felt a reluctant chuckle bubble up from inside.

"Yeah, I got 'em. They were...I loved them." Spike smiled, and Xander swept his hands down Spike's back to his buttocks and squeezed hard, pinching.

"Oi!”

"Doesn't make up for it. Doesn't make up for it _one bit_. " Xander managed to flex his hips a little, pushing up against Spike, and he sighed a breathy _ohhh_ when he felt the vampire move, still hard inside him.

"I'll make up for it," Spike murmured, kissing him - neck and shoulders, cheeks and chin and nose, delicate licks at his mouth, his long fingers tucking into the hair behind Xander's ears, curving around his skull and holding him close. "I'll make up for it all night, love, all day tomorrow...not gonna let you out of bed...not gonna let you be empty for one minute, love...my love...mine..."

"Yours, all yours..." Xander sighed into the smoke and spice of his mouth, the cool damask of his skin. He was becoming hard again himself, something he hadn't thought possible after the intensity of the orgasms he'd just had. Spike continued to kiss, sweet and slow, his body barely moving. Xander undulated beneath him, using internal muscles to massage the hard length inside him. He couldn't stop his hands from going over and over Spike's body, tracing out ribs and shoulder blades, bicep, triceps, the hollow of his collarbones and the ridge of spine. His thighs ached and trembled, locked around Spike's waist, but he wouldn't let go. Spike licked again and again at the marks on Xander's neck, and Xander couldn't help gasping each time he did it.

"Ohhh...fuck...why does it - why does it feel like that? Why is that so fuckin' sexy?"  
"Just is, love. How it is, when a vampire bites a human. Why d'ya think people pay vampires to bite 'em?"

"What? People do that?" Spike moved his hips a little faster, hissing, and Xander closed his eyes, reveling in the sensations; the pull and thrust and _weight_ of Spike in him and over him, his scent and the texture of his skin.

"You feel - me, in you. When I do this." Tongue on the bite, rasping, and Xander shuddered. And he could feel - could feel something else, something besides the physical. Could feel pleasure. Want. Fierce joy. Predatory desire that would _have_ and never let go. Tenderness. Xander looked up, into Spikes' gaze, and saw those same things there, in his eyes. Saw Spikes' love laid out for him, raw and so _hungry…._

"That's you? Spike, I can feel...what _you_ feel, for me..."

"Yeah? That's brilliant, pet. It works, then. This _is_ how I feel for you, this..." And Spike dropped his head again to the mark, his hips thrusting faster now, his hands pulling Xander closer. When he came it was with a sound like a sob, and Xander arched into him and came as well, reveling in those pulses of raw emotion that seemed to flow straight from Spikes' heart into him. They lay gasping, and Xander finally had to let his legs fall, almost painfully stretching them out on either side of Spikes' hips, letting his feet tangle with the vampire's. 

"Do you feel - what's it like, when I do this?" Xander asked, and mouthed his own bite-mark on Spikes' shoulder. Spike hugged him tight, then lifted his head to look at Xander again, smiling.

"Feels like - like you just put your hand in me and _petted_ me...feels like you took my cock in your mouth...like you kissed me. Feels good, love..."

"Can you...can you feel this?" Xander _thought_ at Spike - thought of the past week and how empty he'd felt - how alone. How he felt now - alive again, _complete_. How much he loved Spike - how beautiful he was. Spike closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were wide and shocked.

"Didn't think you could - love me so much. You love me that much, Xander?" Spike's voice had dropped to a rough whisper, and his gaze was fearful and amazed all at once - and desperate. Wanting so much. Xander felt that fear, fluttering along the edges of his mind. Spike's fear, that somehow this was all...temporary. Superficial. 

Xander traced Spike's cool lips with his fingers - gently kissed him - no pressure, just a sighing touch.  
"Love you that much. That much..." He kissed him again, a little harder, and Spike responded eagerly, sinking his tongue into Xander's mouth, teasing it along tooth-edges and the sensitive roof, fluttering his tongue over and around Xander's like a cool, pink moth. Xander groaned, and pushed a little with his heels, but he couldn't get his legs to come up again.

"Want more, Spike, but I think I'm gonna need to - get my second wind, here." 

Spike ducked to nibble Xander's lower lip and smirked up at him. "Poor human. All shagged out already?" 

Xander pinched a taut buttock and Spike bucked into him a little, laughing. "Just have to put up with it, Spike. M'all...tingly and...heavy. Mmmm..." Xander pulled him close, to kiss and caress. Slowly, so slowly, they both drifted into sleep.

The candle hissed and sputtered, and in the kitchen Oz turned on the radio, searching for something soft. He settled to a snack of cold store-bought chicken and a woman's voice and smooth guitar, spiraling out into the warm, sea-scented air.  


_"...But night is the cathedral where we recognized the sign…_  
_We strangers know each other now, as part of a whole design…_  
_Oh hold me like a baby, that will not fall asleep…_  
_Curl me up inside you and let me hear you through the heat... "_

 

_____________________

Buzzcocks - _I Need_  
Suzanne Vega - _Gypsy_


	12. Truth

Late Sunday afternoon; Spike asleep in bed, Xander half-heartedly sweeping the living room, Oz perusing the help wanted pages of the paper.

 _*Like fuckin' Leave it to Beaver here or something. What is wrong with you people!*_ The soldier hated the domesticity of everyday life and seemed happiest when plotting death and destruction. Xander had learned to tune him out but sometimes, like now, he just made Xander laugh. Oz looked up from the paper, giving him a curious look through the pass through.

"What's so funny, Xander?"

"Oh - it's just..." Xander dragged the broom to the doorway and stood there, poking it into the corner made by the wall and kitchen cabinet. He felt pleasantly languorous and achy from...last night. _Two_ last nights. "You remember that Halloween, that spell that Giles' old buddy did that made us all turn into what our costumes were? I dressed up like a soldier..."

"Yeah."

"Well - the soldier's still around. He - never really left. I can still remember a lot of that military stuff and - he - talks to me."

"Yeah? Like - out loud?" Oz looked nothing more then curious, but Xander felt the blood rush to his face. 

_*He's gonna think I'm insane. Well. More insane then usual*_ "Well - in my head. Anyway, he's all - upset - 'cause I haven't been doing the whole 'Scooby' thing so much lately. He likes the search and destroy stuff. Actually, the hyena..." Xander trailed off at Oz's look of astonishment, and he bit his lip.

_*Damn. Didn't mean to let that out.*_

_*Pack. Won't care*_

_*Oh, shut up. How big is this pack, anyway? You keep adding people.*_

_*Many. Us. Vampire. Wolf. Mother-witch.*_

_* **Mother** \- witch? You mean Willow.*_

_*Light witch*_ A fleeting image of Tara, blonde hair backlit by the sun, came to Xander's mind. 

_* **Not** Willow?*_

_*Red witch scares us*_

"Xander? You all right?"

"Huh?" Xander blinked - realized that he'd totally zoned out and that Oz was staring at him. "Oh, sorry, I..."

"You said hyena. Wanna - fill me in?" 

Xander sighed, and leaned the broom against the wall. He pushed at his hair, which was growing long. No quite long enough to put in a ponytail, long enough to get in his eyes. Spike loved it. He went over to the 'fridge and got out a jug of cranberry juice and poured a glass, then sat opposite Oz, taking a long drink. "Oookay. When Buffy first moved here, we did this field trip to the zoo...and there were these hyenas. And the zookeeper was kinda crazy and he was trying to do this spell to get possessed by the hyena spirit or something, only - me and that guy Tor? His gang, they were in the hyena exhibit, picking on Lance - remember him? Anyway, we all got - caught - in the spell instead. So for a while we were - pack." 

Xander took another drink, eyeing Oz over the rim of the glass. Oz didn't seem too freaked.

_*How the fuck can you tell? He'd make a good spy*_

_*Shut. Up.*_ Xander continued.

"Anyway, so, I had a hyena spirit in me and did some crazy stuff, and then that zookeeper - he took it back, sort of. It - never really left. It's still in here, too. Still wants a pack." 

Oz sat back in his chair, head cocked to one side, a little line of a frown between his eyebrows.

"So, does it have a pack, love?" They both jumped at Spike's voice and turned to see the vampire, nude, lounging in the doorway to the bedroom.

_*Not fair. How come he can fuck all night and get up looking like...like **that**! Sex and attitude and...sex...*_

The diffused golden light coming through the blinds made Spike's skin the palest champagne gold, threaded with tiny silver lines of scars. Xander shifted a little in his chair. Spike was looking with definite interest at him, and after a moment Oz looked over at Xander, too.

"Yeah - is there a pack?" Oz's voice was low - slightly hesitant - and Xander wondered suddenly what the wolf thought of them; their odd little home.

"Yeah - there is. It says _'Us'_. Meaning me and the soldier and it, and _'Vampire, Wolf'_...and... Tara."

"Not Red?" Spike pushed away from the jamb and sidled over to Xander, leaning on the back of his chair and combing his fingers through Xander's hair. Xander closed his eyes in a long blink, loving the feel of the strong, cool fingers tugging and petting.

_*He's nude. In the kitchen. Touching me. In front of **Oz**. I shouldn't be getting turned on*_

"Mmmm... No. Not Willow. She scares it. Kinda scares me, too." Xander sat up a little straighter suddenly, looking at Oz. "Oz man, that doesn't - it doesn't bug you, does it? I mean...you're okay with being part of my psychotic little pack?" 

Oz was picking at his fingernails, and he glanced up at Xander and Spike with a quick, smiling look. "Yeah. It's kinda cool. The wolf likes it. He needs a pack, too... I really need to re-do these." 

Oz picked a flake of polish off his nail and Xander laughed. He captured one of Spike's hands and pulled it around to inspect. "Hmmm. Definitely time for a manicure party, Spike. These are atrocious."

Spike snorted. "S'what happens when you're doing heavy labor with your bare hands, love."

Xander twisted around in his chair, looking up at Spike, puzzled. "What heavy labor? You're the laziest person I know."  
"Here! M'not lazy. I just prefer other people to do the heavy lifting. I had to do some...work, while I was away." 

Xander just looked at him, confused, and then suddenly it clicked and he looked away - looked down. He felt something _*fear? anger?*_ pulse over him; something Spike was feeling and just as hastily shut down. The feelings - the _link_ , Spike had said - were strong and getting stronger very fast. Xander was getting more and more flashes of whatever Spike was feeling. He wondered how strong it would get...he wondered if Spike was feeling _him_. It was - amazing, and unsettling. But good. 

"Spike. Would you...would you put on some jeans and sit down and tell me...what you were doing up in Oxnard?" Xander studied the vampire's face, seeing the tiny flinch at the emotionless tone of his voice.

"Don't need to get dressed for that, pet. I was - gettin' back to full strength. Brushing up on my skills. They'd got a tad rusty of late, what with all the - excitement." Spike stalked over to the counter and got a cigarette, lighting it with a snap. He leaned there, smoking furiously, looking at Xander through half-closed eyes.

"But what - what _exactly_ were you doing?" Xander asked, and he realized his voice had gotten very small. Some other emotion surged over him - panic. He stared hard at Spike and realized that the vampire was shaking. That Spike was terrified.

_*What's wrong? Oh...he thinks...*_

_*Well, you're all in a panic over it yourself, Harris. Why shouldn't he be?*_

_*I'm **not**. Okay, I am. But... Spike...love you love you*_

Spike _felt_ that - Xander could tell. Spike shut his eyes for a long moment, and then he was striding into the living room and grabbing his duster. Cigarette clenched in his teeth, he rummaged in a pocket and pulled out a stained handkerchief. 

_*Blood, that's blood.*_

The hyena tried to scent it and Xander crushed it back. Spike put the knotted handkerchief on the table in front of Xander and draped his duster over a chair. Stood there smoking, watching him.

_*Only Spike could look so intimidating totally nude. And this - like a cat bringing in a dead bird... No, don't go there.*_

Oz had pulled both feet up into his chair and rested his chin on his knees. He too was watching Xander, looking a little like he thought he should leave the room. Xander slowly undid the knots and spread the spattered cotton out. Inside were four things. He touched each of them, naming the name. Knowing. 

"Tony." A gold class ring with a large blue stone. There was a football emblem on one side, a cougar on the other. _*Linebacker. Hurt his shoulder, had to quit*_

"Mike." A money clip, tarnished brass with a tigers-eye stone set into it. _*Got it from his dad - a graduation present*_

"Jason." A picture - his 1971 Mustang, all tricked out with racing stripe and mag wheels and scoop. _* He did all the work himself.*_

"Chris." A bracelet, woven leather strips and silver beads. _*Got it from his girlfriend*_  
Xander stirred the things with his finger, not looking at Spike or Oz. Remembered Mike helping him with the wiring in the trailer. Remembered Tony having a beer and laughing as Xander and Chris played pool. Remembered Jason telling him his car was totally dead - KIA. Remembered as well, fists and boots, a swinging bat, cruel voices that shouted hateful, hurtful things. He knew what it meant. Knew...they were dead.

"You..."

"Yeah. They hurt you." Spike looked as belligerent and stubborn as a child, knowing he'd pissed somebody off - _not_ admitting he'd been wrong. Xander knew Spike wasn't sorry - knew he would do it again in a minute. Xander looked back down at the pitiful remains of four people he had known.

_*Protect the pack*_

_*You knew he'd do this. Do something like this, as soon as you told him about being attacked. It's gonna be like this. Question is, can you deal, Harris?*_

Xander sighed, and knotted the handkerchief up again, and finally, finally, looked back up at Spike. The vampire met his gaze, his eyes so clear, so deeply blue - like the sea. And like the sea, Xander couldn't fathom them - couldn't see what was behind them. But he could _feel_... They washed over him in waves; emotions so strong that he could almost not bear them. Love. Want. _Need_ , like a scream from the abyss. Fear. Possessiveness. Loneliness. And all of it so hungry. So _raw_ , and so powerful. 

_*He can't lie. Can't ever lie. And we can't lie to him. However this works - we can't ever lie, and we'll always know...always know the truth. And the biggest truth is: he's a vampire. And that's not going to change. And if I can't deal...I lose. Lose him*_

Xander stood up slowly and reached for Spike's cigarette. He lay it gently in the ashtray on the table and then took Spike's face in his hands. He stood looking across the scant inches that separated them, and he _loved_ him, loved this man-not-man. But….

"You can't _do_ this, Spike. You can't." Low whisper, his eyes never leaving the oceanic blue of the vampire's, and there was a… _flinch_ , in the link.

"It's what I am, love. No one touches what's mine." Spike's voice just as low - vibrating with pain.

"I wasn't yours, then."

"Doesn't matter." 

Xander let his thumbs just gently caress the blades of Spike's cheekbones - the hollows beneath. His fingers sunk into the soft waves of platinum hair and his heart beating so hard, so _painfully_ hard. Dimly, he was aware of Oz moving - slipping into the living room.

"You don't…care that they're dead." Not really a question and Spike didn't try to answer it, just put his hands lightly on Xander's hips. Xander leaned in and kissed him, softly. "You don't care, but I do, love, _I do_. You can't…you can't put that on me, Spike. You can't put any more deaths on me. Please love? You can't." 

Finally, finally, Xander opened to the link - let everything he was feeling spill out, and it was _*sorrow fear anger horror*_ but it was also _*love love you always my love mine **always** *_

Sent as clearly and as fiercely as this new voice would allow, and Spike's eyes widened, and then he leaned up and kissed Xander, slow and sweet and deep. Holding nothing back. His heart on his lips and his hands just gently, gently stroking back through Xander's hair, holding him close. They were both oblivious to the phone ringing, and Oz answering it. 

As Oz talked, Xander pulled Spike close, loving the press of the hard, cool body against him; kissing with more urgency now, letting his hands slide down Spike's back to his buttocks and pull him closer still. Spike was rapidly becoming erect, and he slid one lean thigh up Xander's leg, curling it around, his heel digging into Xander's thigh. The kiss became passionate, breathless, and Xander had to break away, gasping a little. Spike's lips on his throat, and Spike in his head _*love you love you promise*_

Oz stood in the doorway to the living room, frowning again.

"Guys. Giles wants us at his place in an hour. Something's happened, apparently."

"Bloody Watcher. C'mon pet, come wash my hair..." Spike nipped lightly at Xander's throat and Xander shuddered and hugged him tight.

"What's happened? Did he say?" _*You're practically dry-humping your...vampire in front of your ...werewolf housemate. Fuck, this is insanity. How come I don't care?*_

"Initiative. Adam. Death and chaos. The usual."

"Right. Right. Okay. An hour. We'll just... _Spike!_ We'll just be..." Spike was walking towards the bedroom, having wound his arms around Xander's waist and hoisted him effortlessly. 

Oz smirked and turned back to the living room. "I'll just see what's on TV, then," the werewolf said, and rolled his eyes. Spike kicked the bathroom door shut behind them.

 

Xander stood at the top of the stairs going down to Giles' courtyard and sighed. He really didn't want to go down there. All this business with the Initiative was getting out of hand, and he had a feeling it was only going to get worse. He felt a soft touch in the small of his back, up under his sweater, and he turned his head to smile at Spike. The vampire smirked back, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. Something that would automatically piss off Giles.

"C'mon pet, once more unto the breach," Spike whispered, and leaned in for a quick kiss. Then he sauntered down the steps and pushed open Giles' door, the Big Bad from head to toe. Xander grinned over at Oz and followed. 

Inside, Giles was already snapping at Spike to put out his cigarette, and Buffy was glaring daggers - or maybe stakes - at him. Xander and Oz slipped in; Oz went immediately to the breakfast bar, perching on a stool, and Xander settled at Giles' table next to Tara. Anya sat at his other side, smiling at him, and he smiled back a little warily. Willow was doing something on her laptop, frowning. Spike sucked another half-inch of cigarette to ash and flicked the butt into Gile's kitchen sink, then settled himself on the stairs. 

Giles had only two lamps lit, and in the dimness of the stairwell Spike's eyes glittered like a cats, and he became a crouching, slightly threatening figure. Xander could barely keep his eyes off him and stiffened in his seat when a sudden wash of _*want need *_ swept over him. He glared over at Spike, whose teeth flashed at him, something between a smile and a snarl. Arousal was a twisting little flame down low in his belly, and Xander hunched down in his chair and tried to pay attention to Buffy.

"Well, I found out where Adam is hiding - some caves in Breaker's Woods. Forrest was there, too - one of Riley's team? Doing some recon. And Adam - killed him. I barely made it out of there myself. The electric zappy-gun Forrest had charged Adam up just like the Energizer Bunny." Buffy touched gingerly at a bad bruise on her forehead and looked over at Giles, who was frowning.

"So it seems that this Adam is not averse to killing members of the Initiative. Have you informed Riley of what happened?" 

Buffy sighed and sat down on the back of the couch. "Yeah, I told him. He was...pretty upset. That and Angel -"

"Angel's in town?" Giles straightened, taking off his glasses, and Xander felt a bolt of pure rage go through him. He glanced hastily over at Spike who was game-face, snarling silently. Xander sent his own feelings out - calm, and quiet, and _*love love*_ and relaxed marginally when he saw Spike shift back to his human face, scowling. 

Buffy looked chagrined, as if she hadn't meant to mention Angel at all. "Yeah, he - we had some unfinished business from when I went to L.A. He's going back tonight." 

Giles looked at her for a moment, then he turned to Willow. "Have you found anything, Willow?" 

Willow looked up from the scant pages of data on the Initiative that she'd managed to hack into. "Not really, Giles. All this stuff is so - military. I mean, it's all in that kind of coded military double-talk, you know? It's hard to figure out what they're really saying. Kinda like when you get real excited about a prophecy and start referencing three hundred-year-old books." Willow smiled nervously at him, and Giles pursed his lips, massaging his forehead. Over in his shadows, Spike snorted.

"Yes, well - carry on then. Did this Adam say - anything to you, Buffy? Give any indication of what he's doing out there or what his plans may be?"

"Nah. He was way too interested in trying to kill me. Not one for the polite chit-chat."

"Until we have a better understanding of what he is doing, and a means of killing him, I suggest you avoid his lair altogether. I'd like to talk to Riley about this again, as well. In the meantime, do your best to avoid any Initiative patrols. I'm afraid that they are not going to be very happy with what they perceive as our continuing 'interference'." 

Giles leaned up against the breakfast bar and Xander wondered when they could leave - too bad for Forrest, but when you played with fire, you tended to get burned. The Initiative should _never_ have started this particular blaze. That thought was too close to what the soldier was thinking - only he was thinking in terms of friendly fire and acceptable loss and Xander wondered when he'd stopped caring about what happened to the Initiative soldiers. He just wanted them gone. And he _really_ didn't like the thought of Angel lurking around Sunnydale. Who know what he would find out - or do?

"Slayer, did you say the caves up in Breaker's Woods?" Spike leaned forward into the light, his face serious and sober, and Xander immediately began to panic. It didn't help that he was getting a thready undercurrent of something from Spike that felt suspiciously like laughter.

"Yeah. Why, are you thinking of taking Adam on yourself? He'd go through you quicker then he did Forrest. In fact - go right ahead! Be my guest." Buffy gave Spike a big smile and perkily tilted her head as she chirped at him, and Xander ground his teeth. 

Spike pulled out a cigarette and his Zippo with an air of long-suffering and lit the cigarette. "Noo, I wasn't planning on taking him on - but I wonder if he'd like to take _me_ on. Make me a part of his - team, so to speak."

"Why on Earth would he want to do that?" Giles asked, stepping over to Spike and snatching the cigarette from him. Spike sighed, looking frustrated. Giles carried the cigarette to the sink and ran water over it.

"Evil undead, me. _And_ I've got some of Mad Maggie's hardware in my head. Probably thinks I'm one of the bloody family. I can tell him _all_ about the Slayer. All kinds of - _secret_ Slayer stuff. And he can tell me about what _he's_ doin'. Give us a leg-up on him. The whole spy thing, like Bond." Spike straightened, looking pleased with himself, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

" _Riiiiight_. And you think he'll just cough up the 4-1-1 on his evil plot to _you_?"

"Well, he's bloody well not gonna tell _you_ lot anything. And it beats running around one step behind, doesn't it? It might be your bloke Riley he goes after next."

"And _why_ would you be willing to do this, Spike?" Giles was cleaning his glasses, and he peered nearsightedly at Spike, who snorted softly.

"'Cause you're _paying_ me, that's why. Blood and smokes and the odd spare quid. _And_ it might be I can get him to part with somethin' about this bloody chip. Might be I can get it out, or find out how to turn it off. Which is something _you_ lot were supposed to be doing -"

"But that's _bad_..." Willow started, but Oz interrupted.

"No - it's good. It's the perfect con."

"Hmm." Giles looked thoughtful, pacing the small space between the stairs and his desk. Xander sat very, very still. He could feel so many things from Spike it was hard to separate them, but primarily he could feel amusement and arrogance - and when they managed brief eye-contact, a rush of lust. Xander bit his lip hard, trying not to groan aloud, and Spike smirked a little.

"I think Spike might have something here. Why don't you go ahead with your plan then, Spike, and we'll expect a report back in - two days?"

"Giles!”

"Two days!" 

Buffy glared at Spike and turned to Giles, frustration on her face. "You're not _really_ going to let him do this Giles, are you? He'll probably just lie to us about anything Adam tells him and end up getting us all killed!"

"Two days is bloody short notice, Watcher - might take longer for me to get in there, you know?"

"No, two days. You have two days to show us some progress. You won't get paid until then. And I seriously doubt Adam has any information about the chip, Willow. And Buffy, if Adam doesn't like Spike coming around he will, as you said, kill him. So really, we'll benefit no matter what, don't you think?" 

The hyena growled at that, pure rage, and Xander clamped down hard, trying not to react. Giles had a little smile on his face, looking at Spike, and Spike vamped out, snarling. He hissed at Buffy, who had automatically taken up a defensive stance between him and her Watcher. Everyone was tense - waiting - and Xander couldn't help it, he had to stand up, legs shaking. There was nothing but hate pouring out of Spike now, and Xander battered at it with all the _*calm calm calm*_ he could muster. He tried to think of something - anything - to say. The utter silence of the room was finally broken by Spike, who straightened out of the predatory crouch he had gone into.

"Bloody bastards. Supposed to be the good guys here." Spike slipped back into his human face, although his eyes continued to glow a baleful yellow, and he pushed past Buffy, heading for the door.

"Spike! Where are you going?" Buffy looked exasperated.

"Got two bloody days, Slayer. Best get started, hadn't I?" He pulled out another cigarette, lighting it as he slammed out the door. There was a moment of silence, then everyone started talking at once. Xander wanted desperately to run out after Spike - soothe him, kiss him...scream baffled questions at him. But he knew he couldn't. After a moment, he felt a faint trickle of _*love love*_ and he relaxed. Spike was going to wait. Slowly, he sat back down. He hoped the rest of the meeting wouldn't take too long. 

Beside him, Anya shifted a little closer. The ex-demon looked pretty tonight, and Xander wished she would stop trying to get him to go out with her. He _liked_ Anya - her blunt ways were fun, and sometimes she said things that were amazingly perceptive. And Xander didn't mind that other people found her matter-of-factness embarrassing. At least Anya told the truth - or the truth as she saw it, which was as good. He was having fun helping her 'fit in' more by explaining, in the most sarcastic way possible, the reasons behind most social graces. As she leaned over, obviously intent on starting with the flirty games once again, Xander decided it was enough. He wanted to 'come clean', as it were, to the gang anyway, and this was as good a time as any. He waited for a break in the conversation and cleared his throat.

"Guys - hey guys? I've got something I've been wanting to tell you all and...I think now is a good time, since everyone is here..." Six pairs of eyes turned on him expectantly, and he felt himself wilt a bit. The tiny nod from Oz, the _*love*_ from Spike put a little starch back into his spine, and he cleared his throat again.

"Okay...remember when I took my trip this summer? Well, I ended up in Oxnard..."

 

Oz and Xander swept through Giles' door and shut it behind them. They both paused for a moment, staring at each other, then burst out laughing.

"Oh my god, I can't _believe_ I did it - I told them!" Xander ran a shaking hand back through his hair, wired on adrenaline and sheer terror. He'd gotten through his story about Oxnard - Thomas - almost everything. And he'd only had to answer about a hundred hysterical questions. Anya had questioned him more closely then the others and had finally left, looking slightly sniffley. Tara had smiled her _real_ smile at him, full of warmth and understanding, and Willow had finally broken out of babble-mode long enough to give him a hug and tell him she supported him no matter what. And then shot a rather speculative and... _considering_ look at Oz. 

Giles had polished his glasses, cleared his throat, and offered tea, and then spent twenty minutes in the kitchen not making it. But he'd shaken Xander's hand as they'd left, and told him that it had taken a lot of courage to come out to them, and that he was proud of him. Xander had felt - warm, at that. 

_*Guess the G-man isn't so bad, after all*_

Buffy had been - well, Buffy. She'd screeched a little, wise-cracked a little, then hugged him, and she, too, had shot a narrow look at Oz, who had sat smiling like a skinny, red-haired Buddha. Xander had deliberately left out Jack - he didn't think he wanted to go there just yet - and had reluctantly but resolutely left out all mention of Spike. Or anyone, for that matter.

_*Better to let them think I'm gay but single, for now. Don't really want to go through the 'are you possessed, are you insane, he's so dead' thing right now*_

They climbed the steps out of Giles' courtyard and headed across the parking lot to Xander's truck. Oz turned to say something to Xander and suddenly his eyes went black and his mouth stretched in a silent snarl. Then Xander felt himself being lifted up and swung around, held tight by strong arms in a familiar leather coat. Smoke and spice and leather smell, cool lips on the back of his neck.

"Spike! Jesus!" Xander squirmed around in his embrace, facing him and covering Spike's mouth in a hard kiss. Whiskey, smoke, blood. _*mmmm*_ Xander tucked his face into Spike's neck for a moment, just breathing.

"What took so long, pet? I've been to Willy's and back."

"Mmmm...mmmm? Willy's? I thought -"

"Had a change of heart, he did." Spike smirked at him, and Xander pulled away a little and smiled.

"Oh. Really? It took so long because I told them I was - well, I told them I was gay. Mostly gay. You know."

"'Mostly' gay? Can you do it like that, pet?"

"Well, you know - I _have_ been with girls, and it wasn't like it was - horrible or anything. Well, okay, it was kinda horrible, some of it. But still - girls." 

Spike growled deep in his chest, and Xander laughed, kissing him lightly before turning and starting to walk to his truck again. Oz was already there, leaning against the passenger door and looking up at the sky. It was a clear night and the stars were thick as dewdrops in the grass. Xander squeezed Spike's hand, fishing for his keys.

"Anyway, that's what took so long. I told them, and they asked me tons of questions, and now they know."

"Just _what_ do they know, love?" Spike pulled Xander close, kneading Xander's back through his sweater, and Xander slipped his arms inside the duster, under the t-shirt and along the cool back.

"Just that. I left out Jack, for now. And you. I didn't _want_ to -"

"Hush, pet." Spike kissed him, nibbling at his lip, and _*love you love you mine*_ pulsed over Xander - through him. He sent it back, hard as he could, and Spike's arms tightened around him.

"You don't worry your head about it, pet. Can't be tellin' them all your secrets right out. This one'll keep, all right?" 

Xander looked at him; brushed his fingers back through Spike's hair and then cupped the nape of the vampire's neck in his hand, gripping lightly. "I...I know I can't tell them - not right now. But - I want to, Spike. I'm not ashamed of you."

"Know you aren't, love. Don't fret." Spike kissed him again, gentle and soft, and then backed away, inclining his head a little toward the truck and Oz waiting patiently. Xander smiled at him and unlocked the door and Spike slithered across the seat and opened the other door for Oz.  
"Hey - why did you volunteer to go hang out with Adam? What's the deal?" Xander asked, starting his truck and shifting into reverse.

"He can tell me 'bout the Initiative, pet. Tell me all their dirty little secrets - tell me who's who. That'll make findin' the bastards that much easier." Spike's eyes gleamed in the streetlights, and Xander nodded silently.

_*Of course. And why doesn't this bother me more? Killing, again….*_

_* **Hurt** what's ours. Kill it*_ The hyena had no compunctions, and Xander reluctantly had to agree with it. 

"Okay... You know - you almost got staked in there. I thought - low profile?"

"They pissed me off. Wankers. Hopin' the Frankendoof'll kill me. I'm _trying_ to play nice." Xander snorted, and Spike shot him a fangy grin, his eyes dancing.

As Xander drove, Spike put his arm across the back of the seat and ran the tips of his fingers through and through Xander's hair. Xander shivered, relishing the feel of him so close; the little touches and looks that spoke volumes to him about what Spike was thinking and feeling. The - bond, link, whatever it was they had - was amazing, but the casual physicality that Spike indulged in made as much or more of an impression on Xander. He loved to touch - to be touched - and he'd finally found someone who loved it as much as he did. 

They drove home, Santana on the radio; Oz playing air-guitar along with the complicated chords and laughing at himself. Spike dug more liberated lemon drops out of a pocket and they all crunched some noisily, Spike complaining about how the candy stuck in his fangs. His hand had fallen into a lovely little stroking rhythm on the back of Xander's neck, and Xander wanted to lean his head into it and surrender. He drove extra-careful, just to combat the turn-into-goo feelings.

At the house, getting out of the truck, laughing about something, and suddenly Spike's demon was there, snarling, and Oz's eyes had gone dark, his lips curling back to bare sudden fangs. Spike all but lifted Xander off his feet and rushed him onto the porch, growling. Rage was coming off him, hate, a killing instinct so strong that the hyena howled.

"Spike -"

"Go inside, Xander." Spike leapt from porch to the walk, motioning to Oz who darted up the steps and stood beside Xander, human again but tense. Something moved in the shadows of the sycamores that lined the street-side of the property. Something - someone - stepped from the blackness. Angel.

 _*Oh fuck. Just what we need*_ Xander unlocked the door but didn't go in. He watched as Angel came out into the small space of open lawn, pale skin glowing in the street-light. Spike circled him, head down and demon to the fore. He was snarling continuously, his eyes glowing, and Xander caught his breath, watching him. Spike moved like a stalking cat - like a snake. He was terrifying and beautiful - dreadful and intoxicating all at once. A Master in his own right - the Lucifer that Xander lay down with every night. Xander felt a hot and twisting pull in his belly - in his groin. 

_*Fuck. **That** turns me on? That turns me on. Of course it does. Look at him - in his element - what he **is**. Beautiful. Mine*_

Angel was watching Spike warily, but his demon wasn't evident - he seemed, in fact, to be fairly relaxed. Almost - smug. The hyena growled, and Xander felt his hands clenching into fists. 

_*Don't be so sure of yourself, deadboy. You'll be lucky if Spike doesn't take your head off*_  


 

Angel took a couple of steps towards the house and Spike was there between the house and the older vampire, barely three feet from Angel, suddenly and ominously silent. Angel smirked a little.

"William"

 

Spike stood in a strange, nearly silent place. All of his attention - all of his senses - were bent on the vampire before him. Angel. Memories flooded through him - emotions and actions and words - cascading in a glowing torrent. Too fast to sort, too ephemeral to re-live. Only the hurt was real, like a long-bladed knife going through and through him. And the hate. The pain - the rage - was so strong he was held immobile, nearly deaf. His vision narrowed to a black-edged tunnel and all he could see were the pale planes and angles of Angel's face - his thatch of dark hair, his dark coat. The superior and slightly amused expression on his face. Faintly, like a moth battering at glass, he could feel _* calm love mine*_ from Xander. But they didn't penetrate.

 _*Left us...betrayed us...abandoned us - me...*_

He took in a deep breath, filling his nose and mouth with the essence of the older vampire. Angel's scent - leather and musk, mint and green tea and dust. And underlying it all, the faint, sickly smell of a vampire who was not feeding well. Animal blood, rank and rotten. Spike felt his lips curl back from his fangs in something that might have been a smile, and his hand slipped into his pocket - caressed the cool, twisted length of steel there. 

_*Surprise the bastard. Let's see how this goes*_

Then he launched himself forward, forearm striking Angel squarely across the chest, driving him back. Angel hit the trunk of a sycamore with an odd, breathless grunting sound, and in one liquid movement Spike pulled the nail from his coat and drove it through Angel's shoulder, pinning him to the tree. Angel's scream was ragged and inhuman. Sound and thought and sensation suddenly washed through Spike again, freeing him. Spike silenced Angel with a fierce backhanded blow.

"First mistake, Angel. Wanna make a second?" He rattled the nails in his pocket - drew another one out and held it to Angel's other shoulder. Angel swiped weakly at him, gasping, his demon to the fore.

"What are you doing, Wi - Spike!"

"Me, mate? Doing? Teaching you my name, I guess. Worked, too. What other lessons might you need to learn, eh?"

"Spike?" Xander called from the porch, and Spike pushed the demon's face inward, turning his head over his shoulder to look at the two on the porch.

"Everything's all right, mate. Just...seein' if the pouf's a quick study."

"What does he want, Spike?" Xander's voice was level - calm - and Spike felt that calm coming through him, steadying him.

"Dunno. Let's ask." He looked back at Angel, grinning, and dropped the second nail back into his pocket. He reached up to the one in Angel's shoulder and grasped it. He held it for a moment, gaze locked with Angel's, then he wrenched it free of tree and body in one ferocious jerk. Angel gasped harshly and sagged to his knees, and Spike stepped back from him, indolently licking the dark blood from the nail. Angel pushed himself to his feet, holding his wounded shoulder.  
"What the hell is wrong with you, Spike? Why are you here - what are you doing with Xander and Oz?"

" _Doing?_ I _live_ here. What's you're soddin' excuse?" Spike spun the nail through his fingers, not watching it, letting it flash in the streetlight.

"You don't have any reason to attack me, Spike. After what happened the last time we met - _I_ should be the one attacking _you_. You're damn lucky I'm not." Angel stared at him, his lip curling in dislike. "You always were an ungrateful child." 

The nail stopped moving, and Spike gripped it tightly, his grin fading. The rage - the hurt - burned bright again, and he deliberately kept his face human - his voice low. "You're not my Sire, Angel. You're just another bloody vampire poaching on my territory, as far as I'm concerned. And if you don't leave, I _will_ kill you." 

Angel barked a short, humorless laugh, stepping up close to Spike. "You can deny it until the hells freeze, Spike, but you _know_ -"

"Yeah, I _do_ know - _Dru_ turned me. You bloody well know it, too. Wasn't her fault she didn't know what to do next. You taught me some things - you _acted_ the Sire - but you're _not_. Any claim you had ended when that hag-ridden soul of yours lodged in your throat like a bone. It chokes you, Angel - chokes you until you're mad with it - it drove _Angelus_ mad. I had to make bloody _pax_ with the Slayer to end Angelus' grand world-destroying schemes. You're no more my Sire then Liam was. And Dru's let me go, Angel. She's talking to snakes in the jungle. _I_ am Master here. Go back to LA. "

"A Master who can't defend himself - can't feed himself? You're pathetic, Spike. You're no Master - if anyone's Master in Sunnydale it's Buffy, and don't you forget it." 

Spike snarled, snapping his fangs inches from Angel's face. _*Knew. Oh bloody gods, he  
**knew** *_ Something - some tiny thing in Spike that had, until then, been a tendril of hope withered utterly with those scathing, scornful, _merciless_ words. He fought for control - found it in the steady, sun-warm flow of _*love love love*_ that came from Xander.

"You knew. You _knew_ what the bloody soldiers did! And you did _nothing_. _That's_ why you're not my Sire, Angel. Because _my Sire_ would have torn the soldier-boys limb from limb for me - would have torn down the Initiative brick by bloody brick and sowed its grounds with salt! _You_. You do fuck-all except brood and ponce around L.A., bloody wanker. Hair shirt and ashes on your face. Come running when your bitch calls and tuck tail when she sends you home."  
Something surged through Spike - an emotion he'd never felt for Angel before. Pity. 

_*You ignorant bog-trotting bastard. You just lost me, and you don't even know it. Lost me...and you don't care*_

"That chip is the only thing keeping you alive, Spike, and you know it." Angel pushed Spike back a step, and Spike threw his head back and laughed.

_*Don't need him, have my boy...it's gone...he's gone ... free of him ...tastes like ashes, like bitterest aloe...*_

"Oh, Angel - you really are stupid. I'm taken _care_ of here - human blood an' all - dosh, a _fine_ place to lay me bones down... I'm _in_ , here, Angel - like you _never_ were."

"You're fooling yourself, Spike. You're a parasite here. And the minute you're out of line you'll be dust. And I'll be the one doing it."  
Spike laughed again, harder this time, genuinely amused. "Weren't you _listenin'_ mate? I'm not livin' on pigs and cows here - I'm living on _human_ blood, like a good vampire's supposed to. You want to challenge _me_ , scavenger?" All amusement left Spike's face, and he growled. "I'll tear your bloody head off, _mate_." 

Spike looked for a long moment at Angel - at the blood still seeping from his shoulder, at the look of anger and disgust that twisted Angel's face. Spike sneered, and turned his back, and sauntered up to the house. He dropped the bloody nail back into his pocket.

"You're not invited, peaches. Go home."

 

In the house, finally in the house, magic making its impervious barrier and Spike cat-eyed in the gloom. The shocking glow of baleful yellow as Oz lit a candle and Xander went to Spike to hug him, ask him... Spike stiff-armed him away.

"Spike?"

"Don't, Xander. I..." Spike was utterly still, his hands curled into claws that absently sank into the denim on his thighs. Xander heard the threads pop as he tore through them. What was coming through the link made Xander shiver - a roil of anger and pain, of _*hunt*_ and _*hate*_ and _*sorrow*_ \- overwhelming, chaotic.

"Hey -" Spike's head swayed a little, left then right. Scenting. Oz made a strange little grumbling sound in his chest, and out of the corner of his eye Xander saw Oz's eyes darken. Spike hissed. It was a snake sound: low, cold, and hideous. Xander felt himself freeze.

_*Mouse, just like a mouse, don't let it see me, don't...*_

"W-what -"

"Xan-derrrr..." His name devolved into a full-throated growl, and Spike's head was down, eyes glittering, so feral and so _predatory_ that Xander involuntarily took a step back. Spike mirrored him - moved one step closer - then another. His hand came up and hovered over Xander's cheek, trembling. Oz shifted nervously, a grumble of warning or displeasure starting in his chest and Spike's head whipped around to orient on him, full demon in seconds, mouth gaping in a rising roar of sound. Oz froze - Xander did. Spike shook his head, shaking the demon off even though the eyes remained.

"Gotta...you smell like..." Spike let his hand drop, and seemed to come back to himself a little. "Need to get out, love. I'll - I'll come back. Tonight." 

The demon-eyes were fierce and dry - the silent wave of emotion that poured over Xander ached with need, with fear, with _*love love mine please*_ Xander nodded, not daring to speak, sending everything he had of _*calm love you trust you *_

Spike moved past and was gone, faster then thought, out the kitchen door and into the blackness beyond. Xander sagged, suddenly light-headed, and Oz swore softly.

"What was that, Xander? Is he -?"

"I think...I think what he just did...he rejected Angel...Angel's claim. I think he just needs to go beat the crap out of something. He's - he's all right."

_*You don't seem too sure about that, Harris. He wouldn't hurt **us** *_

_*Nothing to stop him hurting someone else, though… Fuck, fuck, that was… What the hell **was** that?!*_

_*Vampire*_ , the hyena grumbled, as if that answered all the questions. _*Ours*_  
And really, it did. It answered them all just fine.

 

Of course, fifteen minutes later, there _were_ more questions, as Angel stood on the porch, looking in through the screen door that Xander refused to open. Back, like the proverbial bad penny.

"What's he doing here, Xander? I don't understand. I know your feelings about...our kind."

Xander sighed. "Look. You know about the Initiative - what it did to him. They're still trying to recapture him. They trashed his crypt - they grabbed Oz and _tortured_ him. There's no way they're getting their claws into Spike again. They _crippled_ him, Angel. What they did... At least here he has some protection, if they come. Oz and me can at least stop them long enough for him to get away, if they ever try it."

"He's a killer, Xander - a cold-blooded murderer. You know if that chip were gone, you and Oz would be the _first_ ones to go. Why do you even care?"

"You've done your share of murdering, Angel." Angel flinched, and the hyena yipped in satisfaction. "You think you deserve agony every time you try to _feed_ yourself? What about - if some kid decides he wants your coat - your wallet? Comes at you with a knife. Even _I_ could pick up a board or a brick or something and fight him off - Spike can't even do that! It's torture, Angel." 

Xander stared hard at the vampire, wondering if Angel could smell the lie. He sincerely hoped not - hoped the vampire mistook any scent that was...off...for stress from the evening's events, or Xander's own dislike of him. Xander wished he wasn't sweating under Angel's scrutiny. "Nobody deserves that, Angel. It's - revolting. At least before, he had a fighting chance, just like everything else on the planet. Now he doesn't have that. So yeah, he's staying here with me, and I get him human blood because we _need_ him - he's the strongest of all of us except maybe for Buffy, and sometimes he can kill the demons better because he knows more about them. Do you know - he told me he got _blacklisted_ from Willy's? Because he was helping Buffy? Just leave him alone, Angel. He's doing fine here."

"He's _playing_ with you, Xander, can't you see that?" Angel looked genuinely distressed, but Xander really didn't care. He didn't know the full history between the two vampires - wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know. But the feelings that had battered at him, as Spike had confronted Angel - the rage and the hurt, the grinding, hopeless _hurt_ had told him everything he'd needed to know. Angel had done something to Spike - hurt him badly enough to make Spike want to kill him. Therefore, he was no friend of Xander's. If he ever had been. Even the soldier, whose slavish duty to any and all 'authority' figures was sometimes annoying as hell, didn't want anything to do with Angel. 

_*Is this what it felt like for Spike, up in Oxnard? I don't want to… **kill**... Angel, do I?*_

_*It hurt what's ours*_ The hyena had no such doubts.

"Xander -" 

"Look, Angel, I'm tired and I have to get up before dawn to go to work. I just want to go to bed." Xander ran his hand back through his hair and stepped up close to the screen door, trying like hell to be calm and to make Angel just _go_. "Spike and I and Oz ... we're friends. And he's going to stay here as long as he needs to. And if he ever gets that thing out of his head - we'll deal with it then. For now, this is how it is, and I don't need you coming up here and fucking with him. You've done more to hurt the people I love then he _ever_ has - Spike never killed one of us, and you did. So just go home." Xander turned away from the door, and suddenly Angel slammed his fists into the jamb, growling. Xander spun around, startled, and saw Angel glowering at him, game-faced.

"Xander - why do you smell like him? What the _fuck_ are you doing? Are you _crazy?_ " Angel's fingernails were gouging the wood of the jamb, and Xander glared at him.

"Quit fucking up my house, deadboy. So I smell like him, so what? Living together here."

"No, no - it's more then that. A _lot_ more. You can't do that, Xander. Don't you understand -?"

"I _do_ understand, Angel. You're out of your territory and out of your league here. _Go. Home_." Xander shut his front door in Angel's face and slipped the chain on, then went back to the kitchen to slump in a chair opposite Oz. Who knew what Angel had sensed - who knew what he would do? At this point, Xander didn't even care. He was worried about Spike, and tired, and just sick of all the bullshit. 

_*If they knew what I could see - could **feel**... Fuck - even if I told them I get the feeling they wouldn't want to be convinced. Hellmouth Living - see only what you want to see.*_

Oz had lit some candles; made himself a big sandwich and a glass of milk and was studiously _not_ noticing that Xander's hands were shaking and that he was close to tears. Xander got up and grabbed a soda and sat back down, then abruptly put his head on the table and thumped it onto the wood a couple of times, groaning.

"Fuck. This is all so - fucked. Oz..." Xander lifted his head, looking up into the calm gaze of the werewolf. "I'm sorry if I kinda - spoke for you, out there. I just wanted him to leave." 

Oz swallowed his bite of sandwich and rubbed a hand over his hair, making it stick out more wildly then before. "It's okay, Xander. We're friends. Honestly, I don't know Spike well enough to say, you know, a hundred percent, but he came with you to get me. He didn't have to, and he was in a lot of danger from them..." Oz shuddered slightly and poked at a crust. "Anyway, I don't have anything against him, and I - it's weird, but I trust him. The way you two... I mean, I can't help but see you, you know. "

Oz looked up at Xander from behind his lashes and Xander was suddenly and rather forcefully reminded that Oz and Devon were - intimate. 

_*Oh fuck. Maybe Spike and I embarrass him or...ah...maybe we **don't** embarrass him. Never thought of that. Damn. I wonder if... *_

"Oh fuck, Oz, I'm sorry, I didn't - we didn't mean to -"

"No, Xander, it's okay. I'm not - it doesn't bother me. I mean, not like that. You guys are - really in love. Makes me a little...sad, I guess. I was kind of hoping to come back to something like that, myself." Oz smiled wanly, and Xander bit his lip - busied himself opening his soda, wishing there was something he could say. But Oz spoke first.

"That stuff - from before, the ring and - " Oz made a gesture with his hand and Xander nodded.

"Yeah?"

"That stuff was from those guys - up in Oxnard. The ones that jumped you?" 

Xander turned the soda can in his hands, glancing up to meet Oz's gaze and then away again. "Yeah. It was." 

Oz rubbed the grooves in the table, the grooves Spike's nails had left and that Xander had smoothed over.  
"Did you...did you want him to do that?" Oz's voice was so quiet, but there was something in it - something - and Xander's gaze snapped back to Oz's face.

" _No_. I didn't - I didn't ask him to do that and I didn't want him to. Oz - I don't...I don't know what to do about that." 

Oz ran his finger down the side of his glass, again and again, concentrating on it. "Do you really think there's anything you _can_ do about it, Xander?" Those eyes - so calm, and so utterly opaque. Showing nothing. But his voice….

"I - dunno. I don't want him - running around killing people who look sideways at me. I know - I know he's going to go after the Initiative. I'm having a hard time caring about that. But...I think... Fuck, Oz. I dunno. I _trust_ him - I can _see_ him and I can feel him - inside me. He…promised. I think he promised. I don't know _what_ he promised. What - what do you think about that? What he did?" 

Oz lifted his glass and drank, emptying it, then he touched absently at a mark on his arm; burn-mark, scarred there despite his werewolf constitution. "Protect the pack, Xander. That's - baseline. You know? Hardwired." His jade-pale gaze flickered over the room - came to rest on Xander. "I know why he did it." Xander held that steady regard as long as he could - nodded finally, and took a long drink of his soda.

"So we're cool, Oz?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Thanks. I really - I really appreciate you at least trying to - understand."

"Hey, you get bit by your nephew, turn into B-grade Lon Chaney, and have to go to _Tibet_ to get a cure, you start to see things a little…differently." Oz grinned at him suddenly and Xander grinned back, feeling better. 

Oz's sandwich looked good, so he got up and made one for himself. They both puttered around, getting ready for Monday. Oz had a couple of job interviews to go to - he was starting to feel uncomfortable not chipping in - and Xander had to be on site early to deal with the usual Monday-morning craziness. Also, Manny wanted to go over some schedules with him as the demon was planning a week away and Xander would be in charge. 

_*Forgot all about that. I'm kinda promoted - temporarily - and I'm not even excited right now. Fucking Hellmouth. Fucking Initiative. Can't wait for all this crap to be **over**._ * They showered and settled into sleep, the kitchen door unlocked for Spike. Xander hated being alone in the bed, and he dozed on and off, waiting.

His alarm woke him, and he automatically slapped it off, and then slumped on the bed as he realized he was still alone. _*But - the shower's running. Spike?*_

Xander sent a questing thread of _*love missed you where*_ and received a blast of _*want want want*_ so strong he gasped. He scrambled out of the bed and into the bathroom and Spike was there, standing under the shower, looking...  
_*He looks strange. Something happened tonight. What happened?*_  
Xander glanced around. Spike's clothes were in a heap by the washing machine. They were - damp. His duster was hung up on the rack by the outside door, dripping a little puddle of rusty water, and his boots were wet, as well. There was a smear of blood on the door jamb.

" _Spike!_ Are you hurt?" Xander wrenched open the shower door and frantically ran his gaze over and over the lean body under the spray. _*Nothing. Nothing. He's alright...*_

Spike was leaning against the wall, drops of water caught in his eyelashes, beading along his collarbones, pectorals. He was looking at Xander with the oddest expression.

"Spike - what's going on? Are you ok?" 

"Xander..." Spike opened his arms and Xander stepped into them, pulling the shower door shut, pulling the water-warmed body close to his. Spike clung to him, shuddering, and Xander started to kiss him; neck and shoulders, cheekbones and jaw. He dug his fingers into the quivering back and kneaded the muscles there, trying to soothe him.

"Love, it's all right, please tell me...tell me what I can do...Spike..." 

Spike lifted his head and Xander looked into his eyes; bruise-blue, wide and _* fear anger sorrow sorrow*_ so strong.

"What, love, what - please tell me."

"He's not my Sire." Spike whispered. He looked down - back up. "He never really was, but...  
I rejected him. I left him. And he left...mm-me. Let me go...didn't even _try_... Gone for good, now."

"He wasn't doing anything for you, Spike. It'll be all right love, promise." Spike only stared at him, his expression lost and so sad, and Xander pulled him closer and kissed him. Tried, with his kiss, to show all his love and all his desire and all his trust. 

_*Mine forever love you.*_

Spike let him, standing so still, and then after a moment he began to kiss back, his passion mounting and the kiss becoming something more - something fiercer and more possessive. And _*yours yours*_ washing through and through Xander like static electricity; tingling along his nerves, sparking fire in his groin. He moaned into the kiss and Spike was turning, putting his hands on the wall, opening his legs, and Xander leaned against him, covering the vampire's body with his own, hands to hands and Xander's lips on Spike's neck, gentle kisses.

"Xander..." _*need want*_

"What do you need, Spike? Tell me."

"C-claim me - make me yours, Xander, please - have to be..."

"Always mine, love..." Xander whispered, but his hands were moving - getting a palmful of liquid soap, slicking himself and then gently beginning to make Spike ready. Spike pushed back against him, his head down between his arms, his arms shaking.

"No, love - just do it - take me. Need to feel it, love, please...please..."

"But I'll hurt you -"  
"Need it - won't hurt - _please_... " and _*please please need you*_ so strong, so desperate. 

_*Do this. Do this for him, his way. Make it right, Harris*_

The hyena whined agreement, wanting as badly as Spike did, and Xander closed his eyes for a brief moment, and leaned in and kissed the side of Spike's neck. Then he took a deep breath, and forced his way into Spike's tense, unprepared body. Spike cried out, flinching, but pushing _back_ , welcoming the pain that Xander could feel - it hummed under the _*need need need*_ that Spike was sending and made Xander bite his lip hard, hating what he was doing. Knowing Spike wanted it - could take it. 

_*But I don't have to like it. Fucking Angel.*_ Xander began to thrust, as hard as he could, gasping as Spike thrust back. Xander felt the viselike grip of the vampire's body ease just slightly and realized with sudden shock that Spike was…

"Spike - fuck - you're bleeding -"

"S'all right...Xander...yours?" There was the tiniest questioning note in that word, and Xander swiftly put his arms around Spike's body, hugging him as tight as he could, stroking into the shivering body, sending out _*mine mine love you*_ , making it _count_ , making Spike feel every particle of love Xander had for him - every bit of desire and need. As he pounded into Spike, he let one hand slide lower, to grasp and stroke Spike's erection, wanting them to end this together. 

Spike was moaning now, gasping harshly, bending further so that Xander could get closer - harder. And what he was pushing through the link... Xander shuddered under it - the unbelievable feelings of love, desire, utter surrender, the _need_ , so strong, to give and belong and be a part of. Mirroring Xander's own feelings - everything the hyena wanted, everything _Xander_ wanted - to belong, to have some connection outside his own head. Xander understood these feelings - _understood_ them suddenly in a much clearer way then he ever had, and his own desire suddenly doubled. This was _right_ \- this was pack, and belonging, and this was _*vampire ours sealed in blood.*_

Xander pulled Spike upright, threading the fingers of his free hand through the pale hair and wrenching Spike's head to the side. He ran his tongue up the tense length of Spike's neck - thrust a little faster, knowing he was hitting the deep place, feeling it reverberate through Spike's body physically and through the link. Then he bit as hard as he could, savage - tearing the pale skin, going for blood. Spike let out a sound like a howl, like a scream, his hands scrabbling on the wall, his body arching into a fierce and immediate orgasm. 

The blood was shockingly crimson on his shoulder, and Xander lapped at it - sucked on the wound and bit again, not quite as hard, his own orgasm leaving him breathless. _* **Mine** *_ and "Mine, you're mine, always mine, Spike, claim you, want you... " Spike sagged against the wall, gasping, and Xander wrapped both arms around him and just held him, rubbing his hands over and over the quivering muscles, murmuring into his ear, kissing gently now at the livid mark he'd made. 

"Love you, Spike," Xander whispered, and Spike leaned his head back on Xander's shoulder, turning his face to kiss him. 

"Love you...Xander, love you." His smile was small and fragile, and Xander's heart ached for him. He pulled gently away, hating the shudder that ran through the vampire as he came free of Spike's body. 

_*Oh, blood, on me, on him...fuck...love you sorry sorry*_

"Don't be sorry, love, " Spike murmured, and Xander got soap and began to wash him, sluicing the stained foam away and getting more, going so slowly and so gently, biting his lip until it bled.  
"I am sorry, Spike - can't change that." Xander turned Spike around to face him, getting more soap, roughly cleaning the blood off his own body, hating it. "I love you, Spike - I don't want to hurt you."

"Didn't hurt," Spike said, eyes closed, and Xander took Spike's shoulders in his hands and shook him just a little.

"It did. I could feel it, remember?" Spike's eyes opened wide at that, and Xander smiled at him. "I could feel it. But I could feel - _why_ , Spike. I could feel that too. I know why. I'm still sorry. Never want to hurt you." Spike's eyes were darkly blue, still so wide, so hurt, and Xander had a sudden thought, and he tipped his head.

"Spike - take a little. Drink, love. Claim me, too." _*please love you yours always*_ The blue flashed to gold, and Xander watched the rearrangement of flesh and bone with fascination. Then Spike was pressing his mouth to Xander's throat, and the fangs slipped in, gentle, so smooth, a ripple of fiery delight coursing over Xander's body. Spike drank the merest swallow - licked the wound gently and leaned back onto the wall, human again. 

"You are...amazing, love." Xander touched the mark he'd made on Spike's throat. It was already less sore-looking. Not so livid. 

_*Heals fast now - back to full strength, like he said *_ Xander gathered Spike into a hard hug, _*want need*_ and the purr _*growl*_ rattled out of Spike's chest, low and stuttering, infinitely soothing, dying away too fast. 

"Gotta go to work, Spike. Sorry."

"I know. It's alright." Murmured into his hair, soft lips on his neck. Another minute and they got out of the shower, drying off slowly, Xander rubbing his towel through Spike's hair, Spike drying Xander's back and planting little kisses all along his spine as he did.

"Ohh, Spike...fuck...don't wanna go to work, just wanna stay here with you." Xander turned and caught Spike's mouth in a hard kiss, probing deeply. _*Blood, smoke, spice ... the best, oh the best taste...*_ "Can't get enough of you." 

Spike shivered, kissing Xander back; forehead and eyes and nose and cheeks, jaw and chin, down his throat. Xander rested his hands on Spike's hips and pulled away the tiniest bit, making Spike look up at him. "You all right, Spike?" Spike looked at him, his eyes shimmering gold for a moment, and then he sighed and leaned his head on Xander's shoulder, arms around Xander's waist.

"I'm all right, pet. Just - never been... I've always had somebody, you know? Always had the bloody Family. Now they're gone. Darla's been gone forever, and Penn. Then Dru... now Angelus... I  
just feel - queer. On my own." Spike looked back up at him, and Xander smiled a little, touching Spike's solemn, down-turning lips.

"Not on your own, you know. I'm here. I'm not - your Sire, not anything really, except...yours."

"You're everything, Xander. Everything." Spike kissed him, hard, and the _*love love love *_ that came with it was almost overwhelming in its strength and need.

_*God - can I do this? Can I be enough? Please let me be enough...love you yours *_

"Fuck. I really need to get ready. You gonna be ok here today? I could be sick -" Spike laughed softly, pushing Xander's hair back off his forehead, petting his hands through it. 

"No, love. You go on. I'm knackered - gonna sleep 'til you come home, I reckon."

"All right." Xander peered at him - did his own hair-mussing, grinning. "Love the manga look, Spike. You really should quit with the hair-gel."

"'S my trademark look, pet."

"Yeah, but...this is so..."

"Poufy?"

Xander laughed, pushing past him to grab his comb. "No - it's just...makes you look less...hard, I guess. Looks like you do in bed with me." 

Spike slipped up behind him, putting his arms around Xander's waist and leaning his chin on Xander's shoulder. "That's just for you, love. I'm the Big Bad to everyone else. Right?" 

Xander rubbed his head on Spike's, sighing. Watching his solitary reflection in the mirror. So strange - a little scary. Xander put his hand up, to touch Spike's cheek, wanting confirmation that the mirror couldn't give him. "Yeah - can't let 'em know the Big Bad has a soft spot for the carpenter. Would ruin the whole evil undead rep." 

Spike kissed Xander's neck and Xander just rested there a moment. Then he forced himself to finish with his hair, brush his teeth. Spike was behind him the whole time, hands on his shoulders, on his hips, and Xander felt the _*need*_ and wished he could stay. He turned around finally and pointed to the clothes on the floor - the duster that was dripping blood-tinged water and the smear of it on the door jamb.

"We'll talk about that when I get home. Right?" 

Spike cocked his head at him, the link going silent, and Xander shivered. "Whatever you want, pet." Xander kissed him swiftly and then walked into the bedroom and got dressed, hurrying now, almost late. Spike curled himself into the bedclothes, hugging Xander's pillow, and when Xander finally left he was asleep.

_*Looks younger then me, sometimes. But he's seen firelight go to electric light and cars take over the world...saw us go to war and go to the moon...made so many people die. I shouldn't feel what I feel for him. But I can't not. Not when I can feel...*_

Xander bent down and kissed Spike's temple, and went silently out.


	13. Talk

Xander met Oz as he was coming into the house. Oz was going out, his instrument case in his hand, keys dangling from his fingers. "Hey Oz."

"Hey. Gonna go hang with Devon and the band, maybe practice a little."

"Sure - that's cool. See you later." Oz grinning and bouncing down the walk to his van, Xander pushing inside, dropping his tool belt, wondering if there were any sodas left in the fridge. Spike in the kitchen, smoking and eating toast, methodically buttering and then spreading jam and crunching noisily. He'd already lit some candles for the kitchen, and the rest of the house was dim, the saffron light of the westering sun making glowing halos around the edges of the curtains but not providing much illumination. The radio on, playing something full of brassy horns, women singing:

_"He makes the company jump when he plays reveille…_   
_He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B…"_

Xander walked up behind Spike and put both hands on his shoulders - bent down to kiss his neck and the soft skin just behind his ear. Spike turned his face up, slim hands reaching and pulling Xander in for a kiss, butter and crumbs and blackberry jam, sticky-sweet, lush. Xander sighed happily into the kiss and Spike twisted in his chair, turning around so they were face to face, pulling Xander down into his lap and really _kissing_.

_*Ohhh, that's so nice...love...wanna...*_ Xander slid his hands up under Spike's t-shirt, caressing the cool back, feeling ribs and spine and shoulder blades, stark under the satiny skin. Spike's hands were on Xander's hips, his fingers slipping into the waistband of his jeans in the back, just brushing with his fingers at the swell of muscle - the little dip at the very top of Xander's buttocks, sliding into the crease there.

_*Nice, nice, oh, just...*_

_*Said you weren't gonna get distracted. Things to talk about?*_

_*Right. Talk. Ohh, fuck...*_

Xander reluctantly pulled away. Spike was smiling at him - a small, sweet smile that was so very different from the usual expressions - the smirk or the sneer or the arrogant amusement. This smile was...relaxed. _Real_. Xander couldn't help but smile back.

"What, love?" Spike asked, and Xander reached to touch his cheek - run his fingers back through hair still mussed from the bed.

"I like your real smile. Spike..." Xander sighed and looked down at the pale hands on his thighs that lightly kneaded the muscle there. Fresh coat of black nail-polish and a little cut on one knuckle, nearly healed. And the eyeliner again, smudgy black that made the blue eyes wider, more vivid.

"Yeah, pet?" Anxiety - fear? shot through the link and Xander looked up sharply, catching the same things in the wide blue eyes before Spike shut it down.

"Tell me about this. This - link? You said...that night you came back that 'it worked'. What worked?" Xander clasped his hands on the back of Spike's neck and leaned back a little, rubbing crotch to crotch. The change in angle sent a little shock through his groin and he felt it from Spike, too - sudden darkening of the eyes and _*want want*_ clear as day.

"It's something that happens when you - we - share blood. I drank from you, you drank from me. It makes a link - a bond. Get's stronger if we keep doin' it, the blood sharin'. It'll never go away but if we never did that again it'd get...weaker." Spike lifted his hips just a little, and Xander grinned.

"So - why? I mean, why does that - work that way?"

"Dunno, pet. Just does. If you were my...if you were like a minion, like a thrall, then I could keep track of you - make you do stuff. I could...hurt you through it. But you're..."

"You can control me that way?" Xander frowned at him, and Spike huffed in annoyance.

"No love, if you were _already_ controlled. Look - sometimes a vampire'll need a human for something - for work in the day, or protection. Somebody to run errands, take care of money. It happened a lot more before - when there wasn't phones and 24-hour shops and the bloody Internet, you know? Somebody to take care of the soddin' horses an' hire the maids. Don't need to do it so much, now. Most never do it. Angelus did, once or twice, for Dru. Before she turned me. She needed lookin' after." 

Spike looked at him uncertainly, as if mention of Drusilla were off-limits, and Xander sent _*want want*_ right back at him, grinding his hips a little, rubbing his fingers up and down the nape of Spike's neck. The hair there was like raveled silk, the skin even softer, and Spike shut his eyes and pushed into the caress.

"Okay. So it's just a really nice extra. Stronger like - I'll be able to feel you further away, or stronger like...we can read each other's minds?" Spike didn't open his eyes, just started up that rusty, thready grumble in his chest. Xander almost laughed, watching Spike purr and rub his head into Xander's hands, so cat-like it was ridiculous.

_*Wonder if they're related, cats and demons. Wonder if he'd like a saucer of milk?*_ A sudden image of Spike on his hands and knees, black collar around his neck and tongue going out to lap... Xander shivered and Spike gasped, eyes opening wide.

"Somebody's thinkin' nasty thoughts..." he husked, and ground his hips up, holding Xander tight to him, denim and heat and hard flesh.

"Mmmm...wanna bowl of milk, kitty kitty?" Xander whispered, and Spike leaned up and nipped at his throat, making Xander's breath catch.

"M'not a cat," Spike grumbled, the purring starting to peter out. Xander felt a smile stretching his mouth, every bit as lascivious as the one Spike usually wore.

"No, but you'd look good in a collar..." Spike raised an eyebrow - leaned in to nip at Xander's throat again, hands going down the back of Xander's jeans, kneading his buttocks, pulling him open.

"Why pet - what a nasty little idea." Spike's fingers were going lower, groping and sliding, trying to find entry, and Xander tangled his hands in the silver-blond hair and tipped Spike's head back, claiming his mouth in a frenzied, demanding kiss. 

_*We'll never find out what we want to find out*_ the soldier grumbled, and Xander couldn't help it, he had to laugh. Spike squeezed his buttocks, and one fingertip just brushed over the sensitive skin of Xander's opening.

"What's funny, pet?" 

Xander laughed again, soft, leaning his forehead to Spike's. "Just - I've got the soldier in my head trying to make me stop kissing you."

"What?" Spike looked a little shocked, pulling back to look straight into Xander's eyes. "Don't he like this?" That finger again, probing in a bit, just breaching the muscle, making Xander shiver.

"Oh yeah, he likes. But I was gonna talk to you when I got home. Ask some questions... Oh..."

"You wanna talk?" Spike didn't sound pissed, just...amused, and a little puzzled. Abruptly he pulled his hands out of Xander's jeans and stood, steadying Xander as he stumbled a little, getting his feet under him in a hurry.

"What - "

"Strip," Spike said, and _there_ was that smile, the one Xander had been trying out a minute ago. 

_*Oh, I think he does it better, much better...*_

Xander just stared at Spike, who turned and went into the bedroom. Then Xander started to strip, yanking at his boots and shucking out of his jeans. There was the sound of a drawer opening and closing - the rustle of clothes - and Spike stalked back into the kitchen naked, grinning. He moved like oil on water, all smooth and glide and soundless, head down and eyes gone the color of the sea at twilight. Looking up at Xander through his lashes - looking at Xander as if he was going to eat him alive. The eyeliner made him look like an Egyptian prince - or a pirate. 

What was coming through the link was mindless _*want*_ and it made Xander shiver. Sparks of pure lust tingled over Xander's skin, and he took in a deep, deep breath. Spike sprawled back down in his chair, a tube of gel in his hand. He opened it and squeezed some out - slowly slicked himself with it, dragging his fingers down the length of his shaft and up - back down to cup his balls and fondle them, then up again, circling the tip of his cock and smearing the pearl of pre-come that was there over the head. Xander watched, his own hands wandering over himself, one hand going to his chest to tease his nipples into peaks, the other just lightly stroking his own erection. His finger came away wet, and he saw Spike staring - saw the tip of the vampire's tongue come out between his teeth. Xander stepped up closer and put his finger to Spike's mouth - gasped as the cool, wet flesh took his finger in to the base; sucking and licking, tiny scrape of teeth. 

_*Oh man, oh **fuck** , he is so...*_

"S-Spike..." Spike let his finger go - reached up and captured Xander's hand and squeezed more lube out, onto Xander's fingers.

"Turn around, pet. Turn around and bend over and make yourself ready for me. Wanna watch..." His voice was low, rasping - breathless - and Xander felt a heavy pulse of arousal go through him - knew his cock was leaking freely now, felt the twisty little fire in his belly that would build and build. 

_*Fuck, his voice...could come just from that...yeah, turn around*_ Xander caught a shaky breath and turned - bent over, one hand reaching back to pull himself open, the other slicked and ready, teasing himself, sliding a fingertip in and making shallow little thrusts, twisting. He moaned, panting, and heard Spike shift in the chair. Xander pushed the finger in deeply, shuddering, then a second finger, feeling his hips start that rise and fall, wanting _*oh, touch me, Spike, come on...fuck...*_

"Xanderrrr... " Spike groaned, and Xander added a third finger, pumping now, and suddenly Spike was pulling at him, turning him, and his fingers slid out. Spike pulled him over his lap, holding his cock steady, his eyes gone golden and his chest moving with hitching, needless breaths.  
"Come on - take me in...so fuckin' lovely, Xander..." Xander put his hands on Spike's shoulders and lowered himself, stopping when he felt the tip of Spike's cock pushing at him. He took a deep breath and leaned to catch Spike's mouth with his, kissing hard, biting at the vampire's lips. And pushed down, one smooth, hard push that engulfed Spike; the cool flesh easing the burn a little, Spike's mouth gasping helplessly under his, his body arching up as Xander went down, ruthlessly. 

_*Fuck, hurts good, oh man, oh… **fuck**...*_ Xander felt his buttocks on Spike's thighs - felt the full length of the vampire inside him, the stretch and burn of it just a part of the fire, the delicious fire in his belly, his balls. He sat frozen for a moment, just breathing, lips open against Spike's, hands trembling on Spike's shoulders, eyes shut. Spike's hands were on his hips, tight and cool, anchoring him, and when he started to move, to ride up, the hands held him down.

"Spiiike..." low, needy, ragged.

"You wanna talk, love. So talk. What do you. Wanna talk about?" Spike wasn't any better, the words coming out in separate mouthfuls of air, voice gone husky and low. Xander clenched inner muscles, rolling his hips a little. Spike took in a hard breath, and his fingers tightened on Xander's hips, hurting a little. "Xander..." he warned, and Xander opened his eyes. 

_*Need need...fuck, let me...*_ Spike was staring at him, demon-eyed, grinning. _*Oh, gonna get him for this...*_ Xander gulped in a breath and let one hand slip down Spike's chest, to rub and pinch at the pale nipples. Spike lost his grin.

"What about - this link. Gets stronger?"

"Yeah. To a point. Then it'll stop unless...oh..." Xander dragged his teeth over Spike's throat, nipping, and Spike shuddered, his own hips rolling up involuntarily, driving in a little deeper and Xander tried to wiggle around, to get more. 

"Unless what?" Xander bit at the cool, pale flesh _*like expensive vanilla ice cream...mmmm...*_ , started licking in broad strokes, throat and jaw, back down to shoulders, alternating little bites. Every time his teeth nipped, Spike would move, thrust just a little, and it was heaven and it was driving Xander crazy.

"U-unless we...make it p-permanent." Spike gasped, and Xander sat up. 

_*oh gods, ohh niice...*_ "Permanent how?" 

Spike stared at him, tongue going out to lick his lips, hips just moving, undulating, and Xander leaned back a little, doing his own little hip-roll thing, letting his slippery hand drop down to his cock, to glide up and back, just once. Spike watched him - looked back up into his eyes.

"There's a spell. S'real...sssimple. Makes the mark - permanent. Makes you mine forever. Claims you. Marks you...for every vamp...every demon to see. Nno...turning back." Spike bucked under him, and Xander braced on his shoulders again, ready to move, to have _more_. And the hands tightened again, stilling him.

"Oh _fuck_ , Spike, please..." Spike just looked at him, and one of his hands slid over Xander's belly to his cock, fingers just fluttering around it, moth-touches.

"Talking still," Spike said, and Xander tried to gather his thoughts a little. Sent _*want want need you love you*_ spilling the physical into the link and watching Spike react to it, eyes going wide, mouth open in gasping breaths.

"A spell...marks me...what about...you? Marks you, too?"   
"Yeah. Same. Marked - bound - linked...forever… _aahhhh…_ " Spike was moving again, his hand loosely gripping around Xander's cock, and Xander braced his feet and _moved ___, up and back, hard as he could. The wonderful slip and drag of flesh inside him, making him open and hot and _*there, just there, ohh, again ...*_

He was gasping, panting. Spike was motionless under him now, hands back on Xander's hips but helping this time, lifting him, pushing him down. Hard and harder, flesh impacting flesh, loud enough to drown out the radio, insistent as a heartbeat. They moved together, hands and mouths licking and stroking and mauling, teeth biting. Spike's hand tight on Xander's cock, pumping and squeezing and his other hand clawing at Xander's back and Xander's own fingers digging into Spike's shoulders, making bruises, a ragged nail drawing blood so that Spike hissed and craned up to bite Xander's mouth, lips, tongue. He was suddenly the demon, the strangely rigid flesh solid against Xander's throat, the fangs prickling and prickling. 

Xander gasping and then Spike's hand slipping behind to tease the straining flesh around the vampire's cock, to push inside Xander a little, more friction, more _there_ , and Xander threw back his head and _yelled_ and Spike bit, striking snake. Fangs like brands, cascade of lightning, fire in Xander's veins and up through his cock and spattering on the heaving belly and chest pressed to him. Xander felt Spike withdraw the fangs, lick and lick at the wound, and then Spike's wrist at his gasping mouth, wetness there, and Xander bit heedlessly, deeply, and Spike roared, arching up into him, _pounding_ into him as Xander drank the blood that flowed out. Sparks on his tongue; the blood tasting rich and spice and cool... _*never give this up, never give him up...love you love you*_

Finally Spike's body slowed - his wrist dropped away and Xander leaned into him, gasping, feeling the vampire's belly heaving under him, feeling the dying twitches of the final moment of orgasm in him, pleasurable little twinges through his groin. The pounding of his blood in his ears began to slow, and the radio was suddenly clear, and Xander started to laugh.

"What..." Spike gasped, and Xander pushed himself up a little, quick kiss to the scarlet, swollen lips.

"This song..." he said, and laughed again, and sighed, and draped himself over Spike, chest to chest, arms around his neck.

_"Isn't it romantic_   
_Merely to be young on such a night as this?_   
_Isn't it romantic?_   
_Every note that's sung is like a lover's kiss._   
_Sweet symbols in the moonlight,_   
_Do you mean that I will fall in love perchance?_   
_Isn't it romance?"_

"What - getting fucked on a kitchen chair isn't romantic?" Spike laughed, too, and Xander hugged him.

"Can we do it?"

"Do what, love?" Xander sat up, Spike shifting inside him, more tiny sparks up his spine, down his thighs. 

"Can we do the spell? Make it - permanent?"

Spike stared at him, the hands that had been rubbing slowly up and down Xander's back frozen at his shoulder blades. Nothing at all came through the link.

_*Oh **fuck** , didn't think about that at **all**...fuck's sake...what if he says no - bound to say no - damnit, **damint**.*_   
_*Pack*_

"Fuck, Spike - sorry, I'm sorry, I should think first, you don't wanna - "

"Hush, pet." Spike's hands moved again, jerkily - up Xander's back to his shoulders, to his face, cupping his jaw, fingers delicate on his cheeks, thumbs just under his lower lip, pressing lightly.

"Spike, I - "

"Do you - really? Really want to?" Spike asked - whispered - and Xander saw it, saw the look. A look he'd seen in the mirror for years. His own look, so familiar. Hope. Desperate, desperate need. Suddenly the link slammed open as Xander poured everything out - everything he'd been feeling for two years - all of the longing, the loneliness, the need. 

A rush of emotion that seemed to physically strike the vampire, knock him back in the chair and shake him. Spike took in a hard, shaking breath, and then it was Xander's turn to be knocked back by the flood of emotion so strong it was almost tangible.

_*love love want need always you always want mine mine **mine** *_

And they were kissing, each as if the other were the last breath, the last drop of water, the last solid thing in a flood, and Xander felt tears threatening, and _felt_ them, cool and slippery on Spike's lips.

"Oh, we're a pair, we are. Love you, Xander. We can do it, anytime. Anytime you want."

"Love you. Fuck." Xander wiped at his face - used his thumbs to wipe the moisture off of Spike's cheeks as well, smiling shakily and wanting to leap up and scream and jump and act like a fool. He sent it through the link instead, wild leaping joy and delight, possession and wonder, _want_ , and Spike laughed aloud.

"Still wanna talk, pet?"

"Mmmm...yeah. What - " Xander rubbed his hands over Spike's shoulders and down his arms - stopped at his wrists and held them. 

_*Thin, they're thin...like a girls, but he can punch through a wall - through a rib-cage... *_

"What about - Angel. Are you...okay?" Spike shivered a little, turning his wrists in Xander's grasp - not fighting at all as Xander slowly lifted Spike's arms up and over his head - held Spike's wrists together behind his head and lightly brushed his lips over Spike's face; cheeks and forehead, nose and eyes, chin and jaw and lips - not kissing, just...knowing.

"He knew. 'Bout the soldiers. 'Bout what they did. Xanderrr... " Xander let his tongue flicker out and trace Spike's lips - pulled back when Spike tried to press their mouths together. 

"What love?"

"Kiss me...just..." 

Xander kissed him - soft, soft; delicate touch of tongue to upper lip, darting at his teeth, no pressure. Xander leaned his chest on Spike's and felt Spike shift in him, hardening again, pushing at him from the inside.

"He knew. _Knew?_ "  
"Yeah. Didn't care. Didn't...try to help. I - he ended it, love. He didn't...come for me. Didn't care. Left me again, just like before. Said he would - kill me. He's not - we're not..."

"No more claim on you," Xander said, and brought Spike's arms back down - settled them around his own waist and then sighed as Spike hugged him close.

"No more claim. He could try, but...the demon - won't recognize him."

Spike looked up at Xander, his eyes flickering, watching. Xander pushed himself up and let his fingers run over Spike's collarbones and throat - down again to his chest, rubbing with the backs of his fingers and then with fingertips, over and over the erect nipples, the ripple of muscle and bone along the vampire's ribs, across his sternum and down his belly. The gold-green murk of the shuttered house like a gauze, making the edges of things blurred, making the sharp-edged beauty of the pale body under Xander softer - ethereal. 

"What are you doing to me, love, what..." Spike whispered, and Xander glanced up at him, smiling just a little.

"Knowing you. Learning you." _*loving, loving you...want every inch of you*_

Spike closed his eyes and started to move, sinuous rise and fall, and Xander moved as well, slow rhythm of hip and thigh, rocking and sliding. They were both silent, blind to each other, knowing only skin, only breath and wet touch of tongue. Xander felt the heat gathering in his belly, the tug and push in him of Spike. The vampire's cool flesh was soothing to him; under his thighs, against his chest and inner arms, against his neck where Spike mouthed the bite mark. Their orgasms built slowly as they both shifted and strove and gasped, and when they came it was silent; each with their arms around the other, tight enough to hurt. Earthquake of flesh running through them both, ringing through them as if their bones were hollow.

After a while they managed to pry themselves apart and stumble into the bathroom, and while they were drying off from a shower Xander thought of another question.

"Spike - how am I managing...all this sex? I know I'm a healthy young man - " he grinned when Spike snapped his towel at him. "But seriously...how?"

"My blood. Vampire's are the fuck all night and all day kind, and you've been getting my blood, so... you're getting a little of that too, pet. And healing just a little faster. S'why you're not all dizzy and tired when I drink from you." 

Xander thought about that. "You don't take _that_ much blood. Do you?" 

Spike tossed his towel at the towel-bar and missed, and cocked an eyebrow at Xander. "No, I don't. But you lot are fragile. My blood makes you a bit tougher. You're not a demon, but you're not quite... the same as the other boys, anymore." Uncertainty was in Spike's voice, and Xander hung his own towel up, and regarded Spike's.

"Okay. Another plus, like the link. And I'm not picking up your towel." Xander's stomach suddenly made the most obnoxious noise possible, and they both laughed, heading for the bedroom. "Guess it's pizza time," Xander said, grabbing an old pair of faded jeans. Spike's hands on his wrists stopped him.

"Let's go out someplace, eh? I'll buy you a steak. You eat too much pizza."

"You wanna - go out?" Xander just stood there, and Spike shifted a little, looking uneasy now, his hands fiddling with the buttons on his own jeans.

"I - yeah. Want some real food, want some wine, want to see you being treated nice. Me an' Dru - she loved to go out to the posh places; get all dolled up, get treated like a queen..." Spike looked at Xander, his head a little to one side, his expression serious. "You don't want to?"

"Yeah, I - I guess I do. I'm just...I don't want any of the gang..." 

Spike smirked at him, stepping up close to kiss him. "Don't worry about them, pet. We'll go someplace they can't afford - won't be anywhere near us. We'll go to Calisto's. That suit you?"

"Calisto's? Wow. Umm...think I can eat without embarrassing myself?" Xander felt a little flutter of nerves in his belly. It was definitely an expensive place - one he'd never set foot in, and never hoped to.

"Wouldn't embarrass _me_ if you ate with your fingers, love." Spike kissed him again and finished dressing; jeans and Docs and t-shirt, and Xander just looked at him. "What?"

"Will they let us in, dressed in jeans and stuff? I've _got_ a suit but it's - it's damn ugly."

"Nah - got a dress code an' all there. We'll go shopping first."

" _Shopping?_ Ummm...Spike. Do you have a fever?" Xander made a show of putting his hand on Spike's forehead, making a worried face, and Spike poked him in the ribs.

"Stop that. I wanna take you out someplace, we both have to dress nice to go there, so we go buy some posh gear. Dolly, love."

"Uh. Dolly?" 

Spike just looked at him, then rolled his eyes. "Simple, love. Right?"

"Right. Okay. Shopping." Xander finished dressing and did a quick check of the doors while Spike made a phone call and blew out candles. Then he tried to talk Xander into wearing a little liner. Xander just laughed.

"I am _so_ not the eye-liner type, Spike. That's for the drop-dead gorgeous evil undead and the quirky musician types. I'm a manly Construction Man type. I'd look silly." 

Spike just shook his head, reaching to pet Xander's hair _*beautiful sexy mine*_ so soft through the link. Making Xander shiver. 

_*Me. That's me he's thinking that about.*_ Xander made sure the spare key was on the porch for Oz. _*Need to do something about that - gotta remember*_

"So, we're off to the hell of the 24-hour Super-"

"No! I mean, no. Go downtown - that place near the post office? Can't remember what it's called..." Spike lit a cigarette and looked thoughtful, and Xander tried to remember what was near the post office. 

_*Lucky Garden. Shoe repair. That place that sells sewing machines. The dress shop Cordy was working in and... Oh.*_ "Brennermans?"

"Right. They've got posh stuff there - nicked me a shirt outta there once - Dru burned my old shirt."

"Really? I can't imagine. Could it be because you...oh...wore the same damn shirt for three years?"

"It got _washed_ , pet. She had some spell or other she was trying out. Didn't work, though - just torched me shirt."

"Yeah, right, spell. I'll have to remember that one, " Xander teased. _*Can't believe I'm joking around with him about Drusilla. Too weird.*_

"Speaking of shirts...what was that, last night? Your clothes were all bloody - "

"Hellmouth, love. Always something to kill, isn't there?" Spike flicked his cigarette butt out the window and Xander nodded. Yes, there was, but... Xander decided to leave that alone, for now. 

_*Coward, Harris.*_

_*No, just...selfish. I can't…*_

Brennermans was a rather high-end men's shop, and Xander remembered looking in the windows from time to time, thinking mostly that he wouldn't be caught dead in white pants and matching sweater. _*Hope it's not white pants...uh...season. Really don't like that.*_ They pulled up in front of the store, and Xander was happy to see there were no other customers so close to closing time.

It took almost twenty minutes to find clothes that both Spike and the clerk agreed on, and Xander felt vaguely foolish trotting out of the dressing room in this or that 'ensemble'. But he had to admit that the final choice looked good. He looked - like a grown-up. Dark charcoal trousers that the clerk said were _Irish Linen_ , as if they were the Holy Grail. And a thin, v-necked cashmere sweater, a creamy almost-white that made his construction-worker tan look darker and his hair almost black. He pushed the sweater sleeves up and held out his arms and Spike clapped his hands.

"Perfect, love. We'll take those, then. Gotta wear 'em out, though, so lets get those tags off."

"Wear them out?" the clerk - Robert - inquired, stepping up with a tiny pair of scissors. Robert's dark-blond hair was streaked in about five other shades of blond and worn in a floppy style that Xander associated with various chick-flicks he'd been forced to watch with Willow and Buffy.

"Movin', aren't we? An' just realized tonight all the good stuff''s in boxes and probably a bloody mass of wrinkles." The clerk nodded and smiled and snipped tags. Spike disappeared into a changing room and came out a few minutes later in black trousers of the same linen and a red silk shirt.

"Spike! No way."

"What, pet? This looks good on me."

"Well yeah, but - remember Drusilla? The 'spell'?" Xander made little air quotes with his fingers. 

"Yeah... " Spike seemed puzzled.

"Well, I know why she burned your shirt, okay?" Robert made a small, strangled sound, and Xander smothered a laugh. "Get anything but red. I mean - I'm getting _dress shoes_ here - the dreaded loafer! You can wear something besides red." Spike scowled at him and Robert stood back, one hand to his mouth, looking at Spike critically. Then he turned to Xander and they both spoke at the same time.

"Blue."  
"Now love - " Robert scurried off and Xander walked over to Spike, smoothing the sweater over his chest. Spike watched his hands - reached out when Xander was close enough and did the same, closing his eyes a little. Spike, Xander had discovered, was rather...intrigued...with the ultra-soft cashmere.

"Just think how nice that'd feel on...mmmm...various other...places..." Xander let his fingers brush lightly over Spikes' groin and the vampire made a tiny whimpering sound.

"Xan-derrrr... " Spike purred, and Xander swayed in close to him, lips just touching…

"Here we are!" Robert trilled behind them, and Xander jumped. Robert was holding another silk shirt over his arm, but this one was a deep, deep slatey blue - almost a gun metal color - and Xander knew it would be perfect. Spike just stared at it for a moment, a little dazed, and then he shrugged out of the red one and pulled on the other.

"I knew it!" Robert crowed, and Xander smoothed the shoulders of the shirt, smiling. It _was_ perfect - it made Spike's pale skin look like alabaster and it made his eyes so blue they seemed electric. His hair even had a more silvery sheen to it in contrast to the shirt.

"Totally...edible," Xander whispered, and Spike's eyes flashed gold at him for a second.

"Right. We'll take the red one, too, and another of these sweaters here - "

"Shoes, Spike, " Xander said, grabbing Spike's duster - and the money in its pocket - and herding Spike towards the shoe racks. Robert followed Spike with his scissors and Xander piled all their clothes on the counter, folding the jeans and t-shirts into a neat pile. Spike still had a huge - to Xander at least - amount of money left from the bag he'd had stashed in his crypt. He'd given half of it to Xander - told him to put it in his bank or in a jar or whatever and use it when he needed it. He could always get more. Xander had looked at him and nodded and not thought terribly hard about _where_ the 'more' would come from. 

_*In for a penny in for a pound. Or so they say.*_

In a few minutes Spike and Robert were back with the extra shirts, and Spike was wearing...well, they were a bit more bootish then the shoes Xander had chosen, but they were definitely not _boots_. Robert had them rung up in minutes, everything tucked away in silver and cream striped bags. Spike pulled his duster on and they left, heading across town to Calisto's. It was a Greek restaurant, near the back of the UC Sunnydale campus. The surrounding neighbor hood was quiet, tree-lined, and expensive. The Dean of the University lived there, as well as a number of the professors and, Xander was sure, Cordelia's old house was around there somewhere.

Xander parked and they walked to the restaurant, and Xander couldn't keep the smile off his face. Spike looked - amazing. Totally different, but his essence - his predatory self - was there for all the world to see in the way he walked, and smiled, and looked at you with eyes like cobalt fire. Xander felt the slow heat of arousal wakening in him and fought it, not wanting to embarrass himself. A sudden blast of _*hot want*_ from Spike made him groan. Spike caught his hand and laughed at him.

The restaurant was crowded and Xander didn't think they'd get a table, but then a familiar-looking person bustled up with menus and a big smile, and they were seated in minutes.

"Spike," Xander whispered. "The maitre d' looks kinda like...Clem. Only not so floppy."

"Yeah. Cousin. Clem's got lots of family. How we got a table on such short notice." Spike grinned at him and he grinned back, and then the ouzo came, tiny measures of liquor tasting strongly of licorice. Xander wasn't sure if he liked it or not. The tables had real linen cloths on them and candles in colored glass holders and Spike glowed.   
_*How'm I gonna even eat? He looks so...love you love you*_ And Spike smiled back, his eyes blazing in the candlelight.

He'd _wanted_ steak - or at least - he'd _thought_ he wanted it, but Spike had read the menu and described everything to him and it had all sounded so different and so _good_ that Xander had ended up letting Spike order for him. 

First were stuffed grape leaves and a salad with cucumbers and feta cheese. Then fish-and-lemon soup, octopus with rice and lamb with tomatoes. Spike annoyed the waiter by insisting on no garlic, and Xander just smiled and ate, amazed at the new and interesting flavors, amazed that he was _liking_ octopus and fish soup.

_*It's the clothes. You're **acting** like an adult, too. Willow would be so proud*_

The thought of Willow made Xander frown for a moment, and then Spike launched into a story about him and Dru in Greece, on the train from Athens to Patras to take a ship to Italy. Their waiter eavesdropped, doing a poor job of busing an adjoining table. Xander was fairly certain that Spike edited out quite a bit of the eating of the other travelers and the terrorizing of the staff, but by the time Spike was finished, the chubby old man who'd been so annoyed over the garlic was beaming and nodding and patting Spike on the shoulder, all pretense of not listening gone. He talked to Spike a mile a minute in Greek and Spike talked back to him, not looking even remotely like he wanted to tear the man's throat out. The waiter finally waddled away, and Xander looked at Spike in astonishment.

"I didn't know you could speak Greek, Spike."

"Well, you pick things up, you know? Comes in handy, pet. It's not hard to learn languages - you should try some time." Spike picked at the last bit of his lamb, and Xander stiffened in his seat when he felt a socked foot rubbing his ankle.

"Uh...languages? No - not me. French in high school was hard enough." 

Spike snorted, his toes wiggling up Xander's pant-leg. "High-school French. Not the same thing. You learn it by _speaking_ it, not just staring at a bloody book full of it. You pick something sometime that I can speak and I'll teach you some. Demon language, maybe." Xander just stared at him, and tried to ignore the agile toes that were inching along his inner thigh.

For dessert there were baked quinces _*I don't even know what a quince is, but I like it*_ , and then they were done. The waiter came by with a package wrapped in brown paper and shoved it into Spike's hands, all the while talking and smiling and bobbing. Spike answered him, smiling faintly. They left money on the table and walked out.

"Hold this for me pet?" Spike asked, and handed the package to Xander. Spike lit a cigarette and slipped his arm around Xander's waist and they strolled back to the truck. The moon had set long ago, and in the clear vault of the sky the stars seemed to be just barely out of reach, like Christmas lights strung across a ceiling.

"What was up with the waiter, Spike? Another cousin?"

"Nah. He heard me talking and was excited because he's from Patras. Wanted to reminisce."

"Hmmm. That was nice of you. To talk to him."

"Sure. Got us free baklava." Spike tapped the package and Xander looked at it.

"What's that?"

"Ohh, pet, you've never had it? Honey and butter and nuts and pastry...better then any bloody Twinkie." 

"Better then Twinkies? Never!" Spike just turned his head a little and kissed him, and they stole kisses off each other all the way to the truck. And all the way home. 

_*This is so weird. Is this Spike? Is this what expensive clothes and good food does to vampires?*_ Xander laughed to himself at that - expensive clothes hadn't made Angel easy to be around.

Oz was still gone when they got there, and the baklava barely made it to the kitchen counter uncrushed. After a while, in the bedroom: "I've never actually been asked to put clothes back _on_ , even by Cordelia."

"C'mon pet. Please?"

"Okay...wait..." There were several minutes of quiet rustling and breathing.

"Mmmm...ohh...feelsss...mmmm..."

"You really like that, huh? How about...here... "

"Xan-derr… _ohhh_ "

"Spike...fuck...ahhh... " Panting, gasping, and creaks from the bed, and then, slowly, silence.

"Damn. This has to be dry-cleaned, doesn't it? _You_ are taking it in and handing it to the person behind the counter."

"Mmmm...anything, pet. Where's the other sweater?"

 

_________________

The Andrews Sisters - _Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy_  
Ella Fitzgerald - _Isn't It Romantic_


	14. Reckoning

Spike woke around two when Oz dropped something heavy in the living room. He lay on his back for a minute, wondering if he wanted to get up or not. Oz quietly cursing decided for him _*what in bloody hell is he doin' out there?*_ , and he pulled on the first jeans that came to hand - an old pair of Xander's so worn and washed they were like felt. He stumbled out to the kitchen and dug around for a pot to heat water for tea. _*Need to get a kettle. Next time I'm out... *_ He found his smokes on the counter and got one out - lit it, inhaling deeply. He leaned there, watching Oz push through the door with a box that rattled - tapes, cd's, and even some vinyl, sticking over the top.

"Hey, Spike. Sorry 'bout the noise."

"No problem, mate. What're you doin'?"

"I had some stuff stored with Devon and...he needed me to move it, so... Thought I'd go through it, see what I wanted to keep." Oz put the box down on the kitchen table and stood there, looking at Spike. "Got a job."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Spike - Need to talk to you a minute." 

Spike blinked at him. "Aren't we?"

"Well, yeah, but - in a serious kinda way. You mind?" 

Spike ran his hands back through his hair and glanced at the pot. _*Not boiling yet*_ "Sure, mate. No problem." He slumped into a chair and started going through Oz's music, making a pile of 'heard' and 'haven't heard'.

Oz watched him, leaning on the edge of the table. "Saw Devon last night."

"Yeah, so Xander said. So you just said." Spike looked up at him - noticed that Oz looked tired. "You mind handing me that, wolfling?" Spike gestured at the ashtray near Oz's hands, and Oz pushed it across to him, finally settling into a chair himself.

"Yeah. Devon. He's - got something going - since I left. Kinda took the band off in a new direction and...well, I'd kinda planned on staying with him but now, I don't think so."

"Huh." Spike squinted through smoke at a _.45 Grave_ cd, trying to remember if he'd heard it before. Decided he hadn't and put it in the 'haven't' stack.

"Xander said - I could stay here. Remember, the night you guys got me out? And I think...for a while...I'd like to take him up on that."

"Right. What does any of this have to do with _me_ , wolf?" Spike stubbed out his cigarette and looked at the pot again. _*Still not boiling. Did I turn the damn stove on?*_

"Well - this is your house too, Spike. Need to ask you - if it's okay with you." 

Spike looked at him, startled. _*My house? This is Xander's house. I don't... *_

_*He's scared*_ the demon whispered, and Spike realized it was so.

_*What of? That I'll tell him bugger off...? Why?*_ "This is Xander's house, mate, an' if he says stay, you can stay. I don't -" _care_ , he was going to say, but something in Oz's expression made him stop for a moment. _*It's that pack thing. Belonging... **Do** I want him here?*_ Spike looked at Oz, scenting his distress - really _looking_ at him. He was still thin-looking; from traveling maybe, or from _*nightmares*_ other things, and his eyes were shadowed in his face. He was nearly as pale as Spike himself.

_*Needs this. I don't mind - we don't*_ "I don't mind havin' you. You're good company an' you can help keep the gang off Xander's back. Stay as long as you like." _*Oh, that's relief, that is. Wonder what else is goin' on here?*_

Oz grinned at him, standing back up. "Thanks, Spike. I'm gonna finish up with my boxes." He turned and went back outside, and Spike realized that his hands were shaking a little.

_*He'll know*_

Spike shifted in his chair - got up and got another cigarette and turned the burner up to 'high' on the stove. _*So what if he knows? Xander has to know...even if he's not saying...and wolfling was here when Jack fixed it. He knows...everything already*_

Spike glared at the pot. He actually wasn't sure if Xander knew - knew that Spike slipped out of bed and house in the middle of the night, two a.m., a little later. To hunt. To put the fear of William the Bloody back into the local demonic population. To feed. He'd told Xander not to buy anymore blood - no point in wasting his money - and hadn't touched what was in the 'fridge since he'd gotten back. Xander didn't seem to notice - or if he did, he didn't comment. It made Spike uneasy. He was just waiting for something to happen. For Xander to decide he couldn't handle it or couldn't allow it or…

_*Something. Has to say something, and then…*_

_*He wants us. Wants the claim*_

_*He doesn't know what the claim **is** *_

_*Didn't **tell** him! Want him - need him*_

Spike snarled silently at the demon. He hated to admit it, but he was afraid. He knew that despite his explanation, he hadn't told Xander everything about the claim spell. He was pretty sure that when he did, Xander would reconsider.

_*Still a white-hat. Still one of them...can't really want this*_

_*We hear him! Wants it*_

_*Maybe*_ Spike pushed the thoughts away - pushed them down somewhere with Angel and Dru and the nightmares he was still having.

_*Teeth and claws. You can't trap this forever*_

_*Sod off*_

The water boiled at last and Spike made tea - got his bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet and added a healthy slug to the cup, frowning. He sat and drank it and looked at music and the next time Oz came inside he asked which one Oz liked best out of the 'haven't heard' stack, and in a while they were listening to a band called The Brandos and talking about Oz's new job. Oz had stacked five or six largish boxes in the living room - one holding a particularly nice sound system - and Spike carried the music out there and watched Oz go through his stuff. A lot of the cassettes had suffered in storage - too much heat or damp, and they would hardly play. Soon there was a large discard pile, and Oz was sorting a box full of loose wires, jacks, empty jewel cases, random tools and guitar strings when he found the bag of marijuana. 

Spike settled cross-legged on the floor and began to roll a joint, just listening to the music and watching Oz work. _*Wonder what Xander'll say. Don't know if he thought the wolf would really move in. Wonder if he wants... *_

The pot was _good_ , and Spike and Oz smoked and talked about music - smoked and looked through Oz's books, and finally just smoked; sprawled on their backs on the floor, listening to a live recording of some Chinese band Oz had brought back from Tibet.

Xander walked in, bringing wood and sweat and _*sweet*_ smell with him, dropping his tool belt at the door. Spike twisted over onto his belly and grinned at him, feeling the familiar shivery heat of arousal stir in him as he looked at his boy.

_*Mine. I'll tell him - tell him about the claim. He - has to want it. Can't leave us...love, want you*_

Xander blinked - grinned at him and walked over, kneeling down beside Spike and kissing the top of his head. "'Lo, Spike. Oz. What's all this?"

"Xander. Hey. It's my stuff from storage. Want some?" Oz gestured with the roach he was holding and Xander nodded, reaching for it and taking a long drag.

"Thanks. So, you gonna stay, Oz?" Xander croaked, holding his breath, and Oz just stared at him. Spike started laughing, rolling onto his back again and putting his head on Xander's thigh, laughing at the surprised expression on Oz's face, and at Xander's grimace as he let out his breath and coughed.

"Yeah - I - I was hoping I could stay. Thanks." Oz took the roach and held it gingerly, his fingers close to the coal. Spike reached up and pulled Xander down to him, kissing him, tasting smoke and sweet, iced tea and _*mmmm...just him. My boy...want*_

Xander slid his hands along Spike's shoulders and chest - finally sat back, smiling, his tongue going out to lick his lips. "Need a drink. You want something?"

"Yeah - got any a those beers left, pet?"

"I'll see." Xander stood up slowly and then fished in his pocket. "Hey, before I forget - Oz, here." Xander tossed something jingly to Oz - dropped a similarly noisy thing on Spike's chest. Spike grabbed it - held up a key ring with four keys on it. The keys were color-coded. He looked up at Xander, who was grinning down at him.

"Okay - blue is front door, red is kitchen door, and green is bathroom door. And Spike - against my better judgment, the big key is to my truck." Spike examined the keys, knowing that he was grinning like an idiot, but not caring. He looked back up at Xander. 

"Thanks love," he said, and Xander just laughed.

"What is it with this house and doors, man?" Oz asked, attaching the smaller ring to his own rather spare set.

"I dunno," Xander said, making his way around boxes and piles of things to the kitchen. "But, like Spike said, that bathroom door comes in handy on exploding-demon nights. So...are you gonna set your stereo up Oz? 'Cause I'm thinkin' it's _way_ better then the old boom box here."

"Sure. I've got a bookshelf at my folk's, I'll get it tomorrow, we'll get all this - " he waved his hand around at the mess. "Get all this squared away."

"Cool." Xander went into the kitchen and Spike could hear him opening a beer - getting a glass from the cabinet and opening the 'fridge, pouring something. Spike just lay on the floor, listening to Xander's heartbeat, the keys clutched in his hand. Listening as the steady _ta-tum_ suddenly jumped, beating a little faster.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?" 

"This...blood. It's like - old. Can you still drink it?" Xander's voice sounded... 

_*Is he mad?*_ Spike wanted to say something...reassuring. But his brain was working at half speed, and the long afternoon of talking in circles and talking about everything and nothing with Oz had made him feel...safe. "Nah, s'no good, pet. Just throw it away, eh? I'll find me a nice chica later, something spicy... "

Dead silence from the kitchen, and the link, that had been quietly percolating with affection and arousal went absolutely dead. Spike froze where he was - didn't move, didn't _think_. Oz had gone stiffly silent as well, eyes locked on a book.

_*Love...*_ Spike heard Xander's heart speed up even more - heard his breathing go ragged, and Spike finally shook off his paralysis and jumped up, darting into the kitchen, letting the keys drop. Xander was standing by the 'fridge, glass of water in one hand, the two packets of blood in the other. Staring at the blood.

"Xander, pet... "

"N-no, Spike, it's okay. It's - " Xander turned and dropped the packets into the trash and then leaned against the counter, staring at Spike. His hands were shaking, and set his water down with a chattering clink on the counter. 

_*No, no, don't love, please...oh gods, what do I... *_

"Spike. It's okay. I'm - I'm being... " Xander stopped and rubbed his hands over his face - looked up at Spike and gave him a small smile. But his eyes were wide and wet, and Spike felt his hands clench - felt his nails split his palms. "C'mere," Xander whispered, and held his arms out. 

_*But... *_ Spike hesitated, confused. Then he stepped up close and burrowed into the familiar warmth and scent, the reassuring thud and rush of heart and blood. And the link finally opened again, full of _*love*_ but there was an undercurrent of _*fear sorrow*_ that made Spike pull away a little, looking closely at Xander in the warm golden light that glowed through the blinds.

"Love - tell me. What do you...I'm sorry -"

"No, Spike, don't. I'm not - I'm not upset about...what you said. About you - going and finding someone… I mean, I _am_ , but..." Xander leaned his forehead on Spike's, arms tightening around his waist, and Spike wanted to crush him close - kiss him until he couldn't breathe, never let him up or out or away from him. He tried not to hug Xander too tightly, aware he could hurt him.

_*Love you, love you...never let you go...pet, please*_ Xander leaned back, and Spike looked at him - looked into his dark eyes, searching for _*forgive*_ something. 

"Tell me, pet. Tell me what you mean." Xander nodded - wetted his lips.

"I'm - it's what I said, Spike. I don't _care_ that you're hunting. And I should. I'm supposed to be a good guy - supposed to be, you know, helping the Slayer keep the world free of evil. Or at least Sunnydale. And all I care about is that you don't k-kill me or mine. That you leave the gang alone. And that girl at the coffee shop and that guy that sold us the clothes... I'm - I'm such a fuckin' hypocrite and I don't even _care_..." Xander stopped, taking a shuddering breath, and Spike could hear his heart pounding so fast, could smell the fear and the misery coming off him.

He pushed his fingers back through Xander's hair, so gently, kissing his cheeks and his lips, telling him _*love you love you*_ every way that he could. "You do care, love, or you wouldn't -"

"No - hush. Don't say anything, Spike. I care - but I guess... I guess I don't care _enough_. I'm not going to ask you to - stop. I'm _not_. That would be... I dunno what it would be. It feels wrong. I told you - I expect you to be a vampire, and that's... part of it. I wish you could just - travel to the other side of the planet every night and hunt in Budapest or something, but _that's_ wrong, too. I just don't - " 

Xander stopped again and this time he _was_ crying, silently, and Spike held him close, rubbing his hands over Xander's back, shaking. _*Fuck, should have said, should have… Don't know if it's enough, please let it be enough...love, don't leave me please, please*_

Something of that got through, because Xander sent it back, fierce and desperate _*love you mine*_ and lifted his head, wiping at moisture, sniffing.

"How can I not _care_? I should feel - I should feel h-horrified or - or disgusted. Something. And I don't know what to do about it." Spike kissed where the tears had been, tasting salt and _*sorrow*_ with a flicker of his tongue.

"Maybe you don't need to _do_ anything." It was Oz, standing in the doorway to the living room, hands tightly folded together and eyes wary. Spike felt a growl in his chest, getting louder, and pushed it back. The wolfling was _*family*_ and he could say - whatever he liked.

"Wha'dya mean, Oz?" Xander whispered, voice thick with tears.

"I'm not trying to - justify - anything. But. From what Giles has said, about the Slayer's history and everything - all these things, all these demons and vampires and...well, werewolves...we've all been around as long as humans - longer, even. So maybe death by vampire or - whatever - is _part_ of life, just like...any other kind. I mean - we all die eventually, and dead is dead. It's all natural because it happens to everybody. So maybe - Spike's just doing what he _has_ to do, and it doesn't mean anything, really. Doesn't have to mean he's evil, doesn't make you...guilty by association. You can't _stop_ him, Xander. Not even with the love thing."

Xander stared at Oz for a minute, bewildered, then laughed a little. "The _love thing_ , Oz? Tell me what that is, please, 'cause I don't think I've tried it."

"You haven't. But you might. It's that 'if you really loved me you would' thing. You know?"

"Oh. That." Xander looked at Spike, and Spike felt a tiny surge of _*sorrow*_ and Xander touched Spike's lips, fingertips as warm as sunlight. "I dunno. Maybe I would have. But that - never works. Things don't work like that."

"Right. They don't. I can't tell you what to feel, Xander. But...you're in love with a vampire. And he's in love with a human. You might never be - easy - with this. But it's just - what he is. What you both are. Don't let this...make you hate yourself…or him. He's only a monster if you make him one." Oz looked at them for a long moment, and there was some emotion in him, so strong that Spike could hear his heart pounding. But the werewolf took a hard, deep breath and then he turned and went back into the living room, turning on the lone lamp and settling back to sorting his things. 

Spike waited, while Xander thought about what Oz had said - while Xander ran his hands over Spike's chest and arms, _*learning me, knowing me*_ and finally looked at him, eye to eye.

"I love you, Spike. No matter what. Maybe it is - justification. But this place - everyone knows, what goes on here. We've seen it all our lives and we take our chances. I _love_ you. I won't stop you and I won't...I won't try to make you feel guilty - " 

Spike couldn't help it - he laughed softly, pulling Xander close. "Love - I've been alive for 140 years. I haven't felt real bloody guilt since the night Dru turned me. And maybe I should, poncey, soul-having bastard that I am. But I don't. I _won't_ hurt your mates, Xander. I'll try not to hurt the Slayer, but she can't seem to stop herself from attacking me and I'm bloody well not gonna let her stake me. I can promise you that." 

Spike pushed his fingers through Xander's hair - pulled him close for a soft kiss, and then pulled away, looking straight into the wide, anxious eyes opposite his own. "But anyone and anything that hurts you - tries to hurt you - is the walking dead. And the Initiative, love, is gonna learn what a Master vampire can do. You couldn't stop me if you tried. But - when I hunt, love…I don't even have to kill 'em. I…haven't been." 

Xander looked up at him, his eyes searching, the link full of _*love truth please*_ "You haven't?" Xander whispered, and Spike felt a wave of relief so strong he closed his eyes for a moment.

"No love. _*Truth*_ I promised you, remember? Won't put anymore deaths on you. Not ones that you'd…regret. I'm not a fledge, too stupid to control himself. Or Angelus, always wanting to - break things. I take what I need from three or four - leave 'em where they're safe. It's not hard."

_*I chose this. I gave him this. I'm stronger then the demon, stronger then Angelus - stronger then they know*_ Spike stretched up to kiss again, savoring the warmth. "Love you, Xander, love you more than...more than anything." _*mine mine for always love you*_

"Yeah. For always. Thank you, love - for doing that for me." Xander drew him close, kissing back, and Spike let the familiar surge of lust and love, tenderness and fierce, possessive joy wash over him - catch him up and fling him, dizzy, into the ether. He knew only Xander's warmth - his scent and taste - felt only his skin like finest suede, soft and sun-touched and surging with life.

_*Mine my boy my love...never leave me never let me hurt you, love don't*_

"Won't hurt me, Spike. You won't. But... " Xander looked at him, frowning, and _*listen listen*_ came through, loud and clear. "You be _careful_ , Spike. If Buffy finds out about you - about the chip - you know what she'll do. And Giles will probably help her. I don't want to run away, but I won't let her touch you, and if it means we leave Sunnydale - leave California - we will. But you be careful, and be _smart_ \- don't make me worry about you all the time, okay?"

_* **Mine** you're mine never leave*_

"I'll be careful, love. Promise. You'd…really leave here?"

"If I had to." Xander's gaze was serious - a little troubled, and Spike smoothed the sable-dark hair back, and hugged him close. They just stood together, arms tight and cheeks touching, eyes closed. Until the phone rang and Spike jumped, cursing. Xander shuffled over to the phone and Spike didn't let him go - kissed his neck and deliberately nibbled at the mostly-healed mark he'd made, grinning when Xander gasped a little.

" _Spike!_ " he hissed, covering the receiver and trying to glare at the vampire behind him. "Hello? Hey, Giles. Right now? Oh...damn. Okay. Gimmie - half an hour, I just got home, I need to shower... Okay. Bye."

"The _gang_ need you, Xander?"

"Something bad happened - Riley heard it on his radio. I guess - Adam got one of the soldiers. Tortured him. We have to go over there. We've _really_ got to get this...thing. You up for this, Oz?"

"Sure. Gotta find my shoes..."

Spike felt the tiniest stirring of fear - tromped ruthlessly down on it and killed it. _*It'll be fine. I got some stuff to tell them and...Xander knows. He knows. It'll be fine*_ He let Xander go, to shower and change, and he followed a moment later to put on his black, armoring himself against the gang - against the slurs and the snark, knowing he had to be in total control. If he let slip the demon - he could lose everything. 

_*Won't do that. Won't lose this - won't lose my boy. And...don't want to hurt the wolf. Family. This is my family now. Mine to protect - my town to control.*_ He went out to the living room and picked up his keys - held them tight in his fist like a talisman against all bad things. _*William the Bloody, and I won't fuck this up*_

 

The atmosphere at Giles' apartment was subdued. Buffy and Riley were on the couch holding hands, but they were both tense. Willow was at her laptop and Tara was next to her, looking uncomfortable, hiding behind her hair. Giles was tight-lipped when they walked in, his eyes darting from Xander to Oz and narrowing when he saw Spike. 

_*Don't don't don't*_ Xander thought, and Spike went silently to his place on the steps, pulling his duster around him. Anya was in the corner of the couch opposite Buffy and Riley, but she didn't meet Xander's eyes when he looked at her.

"Giles - what's up?"

"Please sit down, Xander. And Oz, you as well. This is for Riley to tell." Xander and Oz settled on the stools by the breakfast bar, and Giles leaned next to them, arms crossed, frowning. Willow looked up from her computer and smiled weakly at them, making a little wave at Xander and Oz. Tara just smiled, but her eyes were dark. Riley glanced at them - sent a venomous look at Spike.

" _Why_ does that - hostile - have to be here?"

"He's supposed to be helping us, Riley. To stop Adam." Xander was amazed at Buffy's quiet tone. Amazed that she'd spoken up for Spike. 

Riley looked at her angrily. "Help how? Do you really trust him? I don't understand why -"

"Riley - please. Just - let it go, okay? Tell us - what happened. Xander and Oz don't even know what happened yet." Buffy sounded - tired. Riley scrubbed his hands back through his hair - clasped his fingers together between his knees, ignoring Buffy's abortive move to take his hand again.

"I kept a radio from the Initiative - I've been listening to it, mostly to steer clear of patrols..." Riley looked at Xander and Oz - looked down again, mouth grim. "Today, early this morning, I heard - up in Breakers' Wood, near Adam's cave. They found...Mason. He was - on my team. He was tortured. Adam tortured him and killed him." Riley shuddered, and Buffy reached hesitantly to touch his shoulder. He looked at her and sighed, and she hugged him, eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

Xander sat frozen on the stool. Thinking. _*His duster. All...bloody. And his boots. The blood on the door. Oh fuck.*_ Xander looked up at Spike, who was staring straight at Riley, eyes glowing gold. His face was a mask of utter hate, and Xander suddenly pushed _* **Spike**!*_ as hard and loud as he could. Spike flinched and jerked his head around to look at him. His expression softened and his eyes were human again. He nodded once at Xander.

"So - he's moved from demons to humans. What's the plan then? What are we doing?" Xander asked, remembering the demon carcass they'd found in the woods; Adam's first experiment. Amazed that his voice sounded so…normal. 

Giles glanced over at him and then rose, going to stand behind Willow and Tara. "I've asked Willow to see what the coroners' report says - see if there's anything at all there to help us understand this. And I want to hear from Spike, as well. Have you had any success in contacting him, Spike?" 

Xander felt himself tense as Spike stood up, a slight smirk curling up the corner of the vampire's mouth, his whole being screaming 'Big Bad'. Guaranteed to piss off at least half the room.

"You're in luck. Talked to him last night. Seems he's got some kind of - ultimate soddin' plan. Wants the Slayer and her gang to set-to with the soldier boys and the demons and provide him with - how did he put it? Oh yeah. All the bloody spare parts he needs." Spike's smile was tight and malicious and Xander could practically _feel_ Buffy switching into Slayer mode from across the room. Riley was on his feet, and Giles was scowling. Buffy stalked over to Spike and got up in his face, and Spike just stood there, looking down at her, never once losing the smile.

"You'd better be telling us the truth, Spike. And you'd better _have_ something for us, because otherwise I'll be more then happy to let Riley work out some frustration on your undead ass."

Spike hissed, and even in his human face, it was a shivery sound. There was a small gasping noise from Willow, and Xander glanced over to see her holding Tara's hand, both of the witches wide-eyed and ready to…. 

_*Fuck, they're ready to do some kind of magic here and who fucking knows what the hell it might be - Tara might get it right but Willow is freaking out and she could send us all to Siberia or something*_

"Keep your toy soldier away from me, Slayer. I dunno if I could tear out his heart before this fucking chip knocked me down, but I'd be bloody willing to try. You don't want _another_ dead soldier on your hands, do you?" 

Buffy aimed a ferocious punch at him and Spike mostly dodged it, falling into a loose stance, ready to fight. A little blood trickled down from where Buffy's ring had cut the skin over his cheekbone. 

_*Stop! Back off, damnit!*_

Xander felt like he was going to fly apart - he was so tense his muscles were shaking, and he desperately wanted to intervene somehow - to stop this. Beside him, he could feel Oz trembling, and he tried to calm himself down, as well. Nothing articulate was coming through the link, it was _* **hate** *_  
and Xander gasped at the intensity of it - at the almost painful need for violence - for blood - rolling off Spike in waves.

Spike glanced over at him and like that, the link went dead. Spike straightened out of his crouch and shot a look of pure amusement at Riley, and then Buffy. "You lot never learn. Can't get anything out of me if I'm laid up, can you. And this Adam - he thinks I'm _so_ useful. Can't begin to tell you how pleased he was to see me." 

He stalked over to the table and drew something out of an inner pocket - tossed it down next to Willow's computer. Floppy discs, four or five, unmarked. Willow looked at them as if they might be poisonous, and then reached tentatively for one. Spike reached up and felt his cheek - looked at the blood on his fingers and casually licked it away, ignoring Willow's flinch, Buffy's noise of disgust.

"Frankentron had 'em up in that cave - has a bunch of stuff. He talks more then the Watcher, here, so while he was gassin' on 'bout his master plan I nicked 'em." Spike looked down at Willow, who unconsciously moved a little closer to Tara. 

"Well - w-what's on them? I mean - are they schematics or - or the directions for how to build your own Adam or what?"

"Well now, that's your job, innit Red? You're the computer expert. _You_ tell _us_." Spike sauntered into Giles' kitchen and opened the 'fridge. "Oi, Watcher! You're supposed to have a little treat in here for me, wasn't that the deal?"

"The deal was for you to find us something we could use. Until Willow can look these discs over, we don't know _what_ you've brought. For all we know it could be the kitchen supplies inventory or something equally useless. You'll have to wait." 

Spike slammed the 'fridge shut, making it rock on its feet. He came around the kitchen corner fast and snarled straight into Giles' face, demon flickering out and away almost faster then the eye could follow. Giles flinched back hard, and Buffy practically leaped across the room, snatching a handful of duster and yanking Spike back.

"That's it, Spike - you don't threaten _anyone_ here - get out!" Buffy had a stake in her hand, poised to attack, and Riley was behind her, furious. Spike shifted again, demon and then human, head down and eyes flickering over everyone in the room. _*calm please Spike*_

"Guys…" Xander said, wondering what in _hell_ to say next. 

"Guess you don't care how many G.I. Joe's buy it, eh Slayer? So long as your toy is safe."

"Shut. Up."

"Hey - here's the coroners' report. Buffy, you wanna - wanna read it?" Willow's voice was high-pitched with anxiety, and she looked from Buffy to Spike and back again, clearly unhappy. Anya got up off the couch and came over, casually walking between Buffy and Spike.

"I'll read it, Willow. I'm sure this Adam doesn't have anything up on me, but I'm always happy to check on someone's technique."

"Anya -" Giles glared at her, and Buffy rolled her eyes, taking a step back. "Buffy, please - just try to ignore him. He can't actually hurt me; let him bluster all he likes," Giles said, looking over Willow's shoulder. 

Spike smirked at Anya, skirting around Buffy and Riley and heading back to the stairs. Xander thought he might pass out. _*My god. That was **so** not careful. We are going to have a **long** talk. Fuck, I think I need a...drink or something. Thank God for Anya*_ Xander caught Anya's eye and smiled, and she smiled back, raising her eyebrows. _*She knew **exactly** what she was doing. You go, girl. Christ. I actually said that. Thought it. Whatever*_ Xander got up and went into the kitchen.

"Giles, you mind if I get a glass of water?"

"Hmmm?" Giles turned away from the laptop and peered at Xander. "Oh no, of course not. Please help yourself. Everyone, please..." Giles turned back, squinting at the screen, glancing at Anya in irritation as the ex-demon scrolled too fast down the page. Xander filled a glass at the tap and leaned against the sink, drinking and watching Spike. Spike seemed to be having a fight with himself - he was glancing around the room, muttering, his fingers rolling and fiddling with a cigarette. He glanced up at Xander and then away, and _*love you*_ washed through Xander, strong and warm. Xander smiled - emptied his glass and rinsed it; put it in the dish rack.

"Wow - he really got inventive there." Anya said suddenly, pointing to something on the screen, and Tara made a choking noise and got up. Riley was back on the couch, Buffy hovering indecisively over him.

"What - what does it say, Giles?" Buffy asked, and Giles took off his glasses, giving them a brief polish before shooing Willow away from her chair.

"It says - first of all - he was dead for two days when they found him. He - was - partially flayed and had many slash wounds and...puncture wounds. And... " Giles sighed, rubbing his forehead. "He was...nailed up to a tree."

"Fuck!" from Riley, muffled behind his fists, and Buffy flinched, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"It doesn't actually say the cause of death, though," Anya said, peering at the screen.

"What do you mean? It's obvious, isn't it?" Buffy's mouth was tight, her eyes dark. 

Anya shrugged. "Well, not really. People can survive a lot of torture. All of these wounds - they might have killed him, but most of them weren't enough to do it. I wonder why it's not in here." She scrolled the screen again, frowning, and Willow looked thoughtful.

"Well, they - they don't know who did it - I mean, they don't know it's Adam. Maybe they think it's a - serial killer or something, and they're, you know, withholding key evidence so they can catch him. Or...something like that." Willow reached over and tapped something, closing the screen.

"I'm really very sorry, Riley," Giles murmured, and he stood up and came into the kitchen, picking up his tea kettle and filling it, staring blankly into space, not noticing Xander at all. Xander looked over at Spike - saw something flicker across his face before being wiped away, the faintly amused smirk settling into place.

_*He did it. That night - after Angel came - he went out and ... found this guy. And...fuck. He put one of those nails in Angel*_ Xander swallowed hard, then pushed it away - pushed it all away. _*Knew he was going to do this. Can't **stop** him from doing this. He still - dreams. I know he does. They hurt him, and he's...reciprocating. It's what he **does** *_

_*Deal with it, Harris. In for a penny... *_

_*Oh fuck you. I know, I know. Fuck*_ Xander went back to his seat, watching as Willow fed one of the discs into the computer, and Tara went over to Buffy, smiling softly, putting her hand gently on Buffy's arm. Riley had gotten up and was standing looking out the window, his back rigid. Spike... watched them all, his eyes glittering in the dimness. Lucifer or Gabriel, Xander couldn't tell.

_*An angel with one wing dipped in blood. That's him - so perfect, and so... He tortured that man and came home to me and I...love him...anyway. God.*_

Next to him, Oz was looking studiously at his hands. When Xander took in a hard breath, Oz looked up, his eyes dark, his face set. He looked - angry, almost.

"Oz?" Xander whispered.

"Don't hate yourself, Xander. Accept it or don't, but don't take it on yourself." Xander stared at him - glanced back at Spike and then nodded.

"I'd do the same myself, if I could," Oz murmured, and Xander looked at him in surprise before turning his attention back to Willow, who was saying something about the discs.

"They're encrypted. It'll take a while for me to break this."

"You c-can do it, Willow," Tara said softly, and Willow smiled at her.

"Yeah - just give me a day or so, Giles, and I'll - I'll have the code. I think. I think I will."

"Alright, Willow. Thank you." Giles went over to his table, picking up a book and laying it down again, frustrated. "In the meantime, we need to do some research. There have to be some spells we can use to stop Adam. Since conventional weapons don't seem to hurt him, and he's...stronger then you, Buffy, we need something very powerful. If you could do a spell _while_ you were fighting..." Giles stopped, at a loss, taking off his glasses and rubbing his forehead.

"Super Slayer, with all the combined powers of the SuperFriends!" Xander said in his best 'Saturday Morning Cartoon' voice. Spike was shredding a cigarette all over Giles' stairs, frowning.

"What was that?" Giles asked.

 

A half-hour later they had the basics of a plan. Anya, Tara and Giles were going to prepare the spell; Willow was going to concentrate on the discs. Buffy was going to get Riley back to his place and do a campus patrol, and Giles had asked Xander and Oz to patrol in town. And ' _oh yes, do take Spike with you_ ', with an irritated glance at the shreds of paper and tobacco on the stairs. Spike was practically vibrating with poorly-contained tension and he was up and out the door before Xander and Oz could even say their goodbyes. The link was a roil of agitation and anger, and Xander was starting to get jumpy himself. He smiled and waved at Buffy and Riley, who were back on the couch and fairly oblivious. Anya had stepped outside after Spike for some 'fresh air'. Xander gave Willow a quick hug.

"Are you ok, Xander?" Willow asked, her hand lingering on his forearm.

"Sure Willow. Why?"

"Well, vampire living at your house and he seems kinda - edgy?"

"Oh." Xander looked at Willow, wondering what, exactly, to say. He decided he'd go for 'mostly the truth' and see how that worked. "Well, he's actually not all that edgy when we're home. It's just, you know - " Xander made a gesture around the room, encompassing Giles and Riley and Buffy. "He's not happy to be around Riley, and he and Buffy never got along, and Giles makes him crazy, so...coming here is kinda hard."

"Well sure, but - we're helping him, Xander - protecting him and - and feeding him. He should try to be - grateful."

Xander snapped his mouth shut before he said anything. What waited on the tip of his tongue was unkind in the extreme. He took a deep breath and looked over at Tara, who was frowning. "He's _not_ grateful, Willow, because he was kidnapped and maimed. And when he comes here he gets his life threatened and he gets told that if he dies it won't actually matter to anyone. You try and be all smiles and puppies with that in your face. He's _helping_ us, and he doesn't actually have to, so maybe you guys should just lay off him."

Willow was wide-eyed now, and she looked like she might actually cry - or smack him. Tara stepped up close to her and took her hand. "W-we are kinda hhard on him, Willow. He d-didn't aa-actually hurt anybody, he j-just ... got growly."

"Tara! But he- he threatened Giles!"

"No, Willow, he didn't. He - growled at him. _Buffy_ threatened him. As usual. I'm actually kind of surprised he even turned those discs over to us. And Giles should have kept up his end of the deal." Xander looked at Willows' shocked, disbelieving face and shook his head.

"He's trying, Willow, he really is - we get along fine at home. No need to worry about me, okay? How's things at school? Are your classes fun?" 

Willow gave him a hard look but allowed herself to be distracted, and after a few minutes of conversation about professors and papers, they were both a little calmer. The feelings coming through the link had calmed, as well - in fact, Xander had the distinct feeling that Spike was laughing.

"Okay, gotta go. Good luck with the spell thing, you guys." Oz was already slipping out the door, and Xander waved to the room in general and followed. Anya was sitting outside on the steps with Spike, sharing a cigarette. Xander stared for a second and then grinned and walked over. As soon as he was close enough, Spike reached out and grabbed him, pulling him down onto the step just below him and wrapping his arms around Xander's shoulders. The vampire rubbed his cheek against Xander's hair, kissing the top of his head. For some reason, Xander didn't feel a moment's hesitation in letting Anya know exactly what was going on between him and Spike. Oz lingered by the door, head cocked as if listening.

"Spike - that was _so_ not cool in there." Xander _felt_ Spike smirk into his hair and he leaned back into him, curling his hands around Spike's calves. "Anya - thanks."

"Sure Xander. I've decided that if we aren't going to be orgasm friends we can be just regular friends. Besides, the not-quite-humans in this group have to stick together."

"Yeah? Okay. Ummm. But - I'm _all_ human, Anya."

Anya looked at him, a small smile on her face. "You're having orgasms with a vampire, Xander. That makes you different no matter what."

Spike finished the cigarette and flicked the butt away into the shadows. "I really need to go stomp somthin' into the ground. How about you and the wolf meet me at my old crypt? I'll bet I can find something to dismember on the way." 

Xander twisted a little, looking up at the vampire. "Are you sure? I mean - the Initiative is still out there - what if they're patrolling?" 

"No worries." Spike reached into a pocket and held up a hand-held radio. "Soldier-boy had it in his jacket. I'll know where they are." Xander just stared for a moment, then he nodded. 

_*Better they get Riley then Spike. They probably won't torture Riley.*_

_* Although, if they did...*_ Xander pushed that not surprisingly soldier-generated thought away and focused on Spike again. "Okay. You know how to work it?"

"Sure." Spike leaned down and kissed him, hard and deep and _*love*_ and then he was up, moving fast. In a few seconds he was gone. 

Xander blinked after him, then stood up as well. "Guess we'd better go, Oz. Anya - I'm glad you're - well, I'm glad we can be friends."

"Me too." Anya held her hand up and Xander pulled her to her feet. "You were my first friend here, Xander, when I lost my powers. And you guys - " she gestured to include Oz, "You guys treat me like...I'm one of you. I can tell that the rest don't really like me." 

Xander opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. "Yeah. You're probably right. But give them a chance, okay Anya? They're just - human, you know? They really are good people - good friends."

Anya smiled at him - smiled over at Oz. "I'm with Spike, you know? I like this world, even if it is hard to get along without my powers. Although dog racing is very strange. So I'll do what I can to help with the Hellmouth stuff. I don't want Sunnydale to be sucked into a hell dimension - some of them are pretty horrible. There's one that's always Tuesday. Can you imagine? Besides, there are many ways of making money and having orgasms that I haven't even explored yet." Anya smiled and headed back inside. Xander and Oz walked up the steps and out into the parking lot, making their way to Xander's truck.

"Everybody was pretty excited in there, when we left," Oz said, and Xander glanced back towards Giles' apartment. 

"Yeah? What about?"

"About Spike - about you. Guess that whole performance tonight kinda - got 'em riled up. And of course you taking sides... " Oz didn't finish, but Xander knew exactly what he meant. He unlocked the truck door and slid in - reached over and unlocked Oz's door.

"Well, too bad. I'm not gonna even _pretend_ to join the 'I hate Spike' club just to make them happy. They're wrong, and I don't mind pointing it out. I'm done with being the get-along guy." Oz shrugged, not saying anything, and Xander drove out of the parking lot, thinking. Very faintly, he could feel something from Spike - it felt gleeful and… _hungry_ , somehow, and Xander wondered if he were fighting something. Or feeding. Xander looked over at Oz, who was staring out the window, one leg pulled up to his chest.

"Oz? Did you mean it? About...killing that soldier? Any soldier?" 

Oz looked over at him, then back out the window, his fingers tapping absently on his shin. "Yeah, I did. I _feel_ like I want to. If we were out patrolling, and we found a soldier...I don't know exactly what I'd do but I… _feel_...like I'd like to hurt him. I don't know." 

Oz sighed, and rested his chin on his knee. "They wanted me to be an animal, Xander. They wanted me to be some mindless, evil _thing_. Something it was okay to hurt and hate. When I - changed - when I was human... they wouldn't look at me. They pretended I wasn't even there - talked like I couldn't hear them or...couldn't understand them. They _made_ me an animal so they could do whatever they wanted to me. They - hurt me - so I'd change back." 

Oz's eyes had gone dark, and he seemed to curl in on himself, tucking down. "When I found out I was a werewolf, and even when I might have killed someone - you guys all... You treated me like a human, and you worked to figure it out - to fix it. They just - wanted me to be a hostile. They didn't care that I was mostly Oz." Oz's fingers had tightened on his leg, knuckles white, and after a moment Xander reached hesitantly over and put his hand on Oz's rigid shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Oz. I'm so sorry." He let his hand rest there a moment - squeezed the tensed muscle and let go. The rest of the ride to the cemetery was silent, but it wasn't a bad silence. 

Oz finally relaxed a little. "I guess that's three of us that know now. You think Anya will keep the secret?" 

Xander blinked, surprised. He hadn't really even considered it. "I - dunno. I hope. I'm not really ready to face that, right now. Not when everything is so... "

"Yeah... I think she will. She gets stuff more then everybody thinks. I think she just likes to... keep people off balance."

"I think you're right." Xander found a place to park that wasn't too conspicuous and they walked in silence towards Spike's crypt - exchanged alarmed glances and started to run when they heard the sounds of fighting. They rounded the Robinson memorial and skidded to a stop. Spike was fighting three fledges - and if the gleeful, fang-edged smile on his face meant anything, he was enjoying himself. Xander and Oz settled on convenient tombstones and watched. Spike's movements were liquid, graceful - and vicious, and Xander flinched a little at the blooming streaks and splotches of blood that were rapidly appearing on the clothes of all three of the fledges. Xander couldn't tell if Spike was using his hands or a weapon - wasn't sure he wanted to know.

_*Fuck. Glad he's on my side. He's...scary.*_

_*Ours. Never hurt us*_

Xander wondered what made the hyena so certain of everything. It was nice to have that kind of confidence somewhere inside himself, but a little weird when it vied with his own insecurities. Spike noticed them and in a flurry of moves faster then Xander could track, all three fledges were dust, eddying down to the ground in swirling clouds. Spike tossed his stake into the air and caught it - tucked it away. Xander noticed a knife in his other hand - realized it was the straight razor that Spike carried. 

_*Is that better or worse then hands?*_ Xander shivered a little at the thought of that surgically sharp blade slicing into flesh.

"All relaxed and ready to patrol, then?" Xander asked, standing up as Spike sauntered over, tucking the razor away. The demon features sank away, giving over to the human ones and Spike swept Xander up in a hard embrace, kissing him with an intensity that took Xander's breath away. Xander pressed as close as he could to the hard, cool body, feeling the sizzle of desire start in his belly. 

_*Want you love you want*_ and Spike groaned into his mouth, groin to groin and hardness to hardness. Xander finally pulled away, smiling, conscious of Oz and where they were.

"Mmmm. Not relaxed at all, pet." Spike kissed down his throat and nibbled at the bite mark. "Fix that soon enough."

"Hmm, yeah -" Spike stiffened suddenly, and pushed Xander away, head up and scenting, the demon back in seconds. He stalked over to his old crypt and kicked the door in, then disappeared inside.  
A moment later he came out, cradling a limp body. It was a girl - nobody Xander knew - college age. Her clothes were torn, and her throat, and she lolled in Spike's arms, eyes glassy, her lips blue-tinged and smeared with blood. Oz moved towards them, his hand going out to the girl.

"Is she alive?" Xander whispered, and Spike looked down at her.

"For about another minute. She's bled out, pet."

"We gotta - gotta get her to -"

"Xander." Spike's tone stopped him - his look. He looked - disgusted.

"What? Spike, we have to -"

"No, love. She's bled out. She's fed. She'll be a fledge by tomorrow." 

Oz's hand dropped, and he stepped away. "What do we do?" Oz asked, quiet, and Spike looked back at the girl.

"Gits. They could barely fend for themselves and they're turnin' whatever comes their way. I'm surprised it even worked. The blood's thin, around here. Too many minions makin' minions…"

" _Spike_ ," Xander said, and Spike stopped talking and looked at him. "What do we do with her?"

"Usual. She's turned enough, a stake'll finish it." Spike lay her down on the ground - dipped his hand into his coat and found his stake. A moment later the girl _*brown hair, dolls' eyes, tan skin*_ was gone and Spike was brushing at his duster.

Xander sighed, and looked over at Oz. "Guess we'd better patrol, huh." 

Oz nodded, looking at the space where the girl had been. "Yeah - go from here over to the Bronze and back?"

"Okay." Spike had gone back into the crypt and now he emerged, stuffing something into his pocket. "What'cha got, Spike?"

"Oh, they had a bit a dosh lyin' about - might as well take it. Ready, then?"

"Yeah. Ready." Xander fell into step with Oz, and Spike slipped his arm around Xander's waist, tugging him close.

"She was already gone, love. Nothing you could do. Don't fret, eh?" Xander looked over at him - saw dark eyes and so-perfect face - felt _*love you safe*_ like a warm breeze through his soul. He nodded, and they walked in silence for a while, the only sound the steady whisper of static from the Initiative radio Spike had somewhere in his duster. Xander felt questions crowding behind his teeth - knew he had to ask some of them - one of them - or scream. He took a deep breath, and felt Spike's fingers tighten for a moment on his waist.

"You're gonna ask about that soldier, aren't you pet." Spike said, and his voice was low - tense -and there was a brief skitter of _*fear*_ from the link, then nothing.

"Yeah." Xander sighed - stopped walking and turned, resting his hands on Spike's shoulders. "What killed him, Spike?" Spike's own hands had gone to Xander's hips, and they tightened there for a moment. Spike's blue eyes were half-lidded, speculative. As if weighing his response. 

_*Truth*_ Xander thought, and Spike nodded slowly.

"Put one a those nails into him - through his skull. Right where... Well, you know were." Xander held Spike's gaze as long as he could, then he glanced away, shivering. Oz was sidling back, step by step.

"Oz. It's okay. You need to be here, too. You've kind of - thrown in with us, you're - pack." Oz nodded and settled on a tilting tombstone, stake idly turning in his hands. Xander took a hard breath and turned back to Spike, the link oddly silent. He tentatively sent _*love you*_ and got a flood back; relief, fear, anger, love. Xander kneaded Spike's shoulders through the duster, the leather creaking softly.

"Okay. You got one - did something really nasty to him. Are - are the rest going to be like that?"

"Probably." Spike looked at him, and reached up to touch Xander's lips, so gently. "But maybe not. I was - when I found him, that soldier - he almost had me. Those damn taser things of theirs, they're wicked, love. But I got him, in the end, and I was gonna - was gonna nail him up and leave him, is all. I've never really been one for... But I - started remembering." Spike shivered suddenly, and Oz shifted on his macabre seat, tense.

"Remembering what?"

Spike took in a hard breath and glanced over at Oz. "Just - what they did. I kinda...got lost, for a bit. An' then he was dead." Spike slid his fingers up under Xander's shirt, caressing his back. "I don't like to lose control like that. It...scares me. I never did that before." 

Xander kissed him gently, just slowly re-learning the cool cave of his mouth; smoke and spice, and _*blood*_ Xander pulled away, and looked at him.

_*Truth, remember? Vampire-truth. And werewolf-truth. They both want to kill what hurt them. The hyena does - some part of me...does.*_

"Okay. Fuck, Spike. I know you have to do this. I _love_ you. Be _careful_. If he'd gotten you with that taser…"

"All right, pet. All right." _*Need you mine love you*_ A long moment of silence, just being close, then Xander gave Spike a last kiss and pulled back.

"You too, Oz. Be careful. I don't know what your - plans are, regarding the Initiative, but you don't get to play John Wayne either." Oz nodded at him, a small smile on his lips. "Now it's time to save the city of Sunnydale from inept, evil, and smelly demons. You game?" Xander asked, grinning at Spike and the demon grinned back. 

Oz howled, the sound strange and shivery coming out of his human mouth. Spike roared, a cry that boomed and echoed away across the cemetery. Faintly, something roared back, and Spike laughed.

 

"Our next kill awaits, gentlemen." They grinned at each other and started towards the sound, an easy lope, elbows and shoulders brushing occasionally. Oz shifted into the wolf a little so he could make wolf-on-the-hunt sounds; yips and snarls that Spike answered.

_*Hunt!*_ The hyena was ecstatic, and from somewhere, a memory welled up, and Xander lifted his chin and made the whooping, nerve-scraping ululation of the hyena. _*Pack. Finally.*_ He looked over at Spike - at Oz, at supernatural creatures who were... 

_*Family*_ came from Spike, and Xander whooped again. 

_*Family*_


	15. Mercy

_*God, I hate this place*_ Xander shifted uneasily, watching Buffy and Colonel McNamara argue in vicious whispers about the Adam project. Which the Colonel obviously knew nothing about. He also seemed disproportionately horrified by Giles' holdall full of magical supplies. 

_*Jesus. This man is a moron. Who put him in charge?*_ Giles was looking more pissed off by the moment, and Willow more nervous. Just as Xander was going to say something to her, the power went out. They all froze, and in the bluish-white wash of the emergency lights, the Colonel looked truly spooked. A technician frantically tapped codes into a keypad, finally giving up in frustration and muttering _'we're locked out'_.

McNamara seemed to finally gather his wits; he snapped orders, shot Buffy a venomous glare and then he and most of his troops were gone. The two soldiers left to guard them looked nervous as hell, and Buffy had them unconscious on the floor in moments. Willow dove for a computer terminal _*Thank god for backup generators*_ , and started calling up schematics to the underground warren. Xander felt the sweat collecting along his hairline and trickling down his back, slicking his palms. It was making the stock of his rifle slippery, and he hoped he wouldn't have to actually use it - he might drop it, he was so nervous. 

_*Wish Spike were here. Where...*_ He sent a questing tendril of thought out along the link, hoping for a response, but Spike was blocking him - or too far away. Somewhere with Adam, getting the Frankentronic creature's "ultimate soddin' plan" going.

"They've got every door locked open - except for the exits..." Willow murmured, frowning. On a security monitor, Xander suddenly realized that the cells the 'hostiles' had been held in were open, and that hell was literally breaking loose in the Pit. Xander nudged Giles, pointing with his chin towards the monitor, and Giles grimaced.

"Found it!" Willow crowed, and in minutes they were moving. Out in the Pit it was chaos - worse then what the monitors had shown by far. The space boiled with demons and soldiers, all of them fighting at a desperate pitch, and something was on fire somewhere, acrid smoke billowing up to the ceiling. Suddenly Xander felt _*careful*_ and he turned and saw Spike vaulting over a railing, bypassing the stairs. The vampire dodged a soldier, snapped the neck of a warty demon and bounded up to the group.

"Got your secret hideaway all picked out then?" he asked, and Xander grinned at him. A soldier let loose a spray of bullets and Buffy tackled Willow to the ground, rolling them both over and over. Xander ducked down as well and watched in amusement as Giles clocked a demon across the face with some item of magical paraphernalia - he was pretty sure it was the magical gourd that had so horrified the Colonel.

"Here!" Buffy yelled, and flung open door 314. They piled in, and Xander and Spike stood for a moment by the door, out of sight to those inside, watching the riot.

"I'll keep you safe, love," Spike whispered, shrugging out of his duster. "You keep that safe for me, right?" 

"R-right," Xander stuttered, and suddenly he was being kissed, cool lips and tongue frantically claiming his, and _*love you safe mine*_. Xander put his hand to Spike's neck and pulled him closer, and then they were breaking the kiss, panting, and Xander crushed Spike's duster to him.

"You - you be _*safe safe* **careful**_ you hear?" A body rocketed past them and then spun around, catching itself up short and it was Oz, halfway to wolf; claws and fangs and sleek russet fur and eyes as black as tar. Oz grinned and yipped a high-pitched howl that Spike answered, that roaring cry that echoed across the Pit and made everyone - everything - pause for a split second.

"Go on, love, they'll miss you." Spike pushed at Xander, pushing him back through the doorway, and Xander watched as he and Oz plunged into the fray. The first thing Spike took down was a soldier. Spike grabbed - punched - and then the soldier was falling away, chest gaping open, and Spike was hurling the mass of muscle and blood in his hand to the floor, turning to the next live body.

_*His heart. That was the soldier's heart. Oh fuck.*_ Xander slammed the door - manhandled a gurney across it and turned to see Willow and Giles kneeling on the floor, hastily setting up the circle, putting spell components in little clumps. Buffy was standing by another door, ready to go.

"What the hell was that sound?" she said, and Xander shrugged.

"There's a lot of big stuff out there. I saw Spike - he's gonna make sure nothing gets in here."

"He'd better. I'm going, Giles."

"Give us five minutes, Buffy, okay?" Willow looked up from a bowl of - something - and Buffy nodded.

"Right. Barricade this when I get in." Then she was gone, slipping away, and Xander pushed a shelving unit back across the door, wedging it as best he could in the narrow space. The hyena longed to join the fight, and Xander tried to soothe it, telling it they'd fight another way. The hyena was not happy. Xander propped his rifle against the wall and settled cross legged on the floor. 

Willow began to chant while Giles mixed various things, and Xander simply waited, eyes closed, feeling Spike - feeling a gleeful rage, feeling _strength_ that he'd never imagined, and a sort of wicked joy. 

_*No fear. He doesn't feel any fear - at all*_ Suddenly Xander felt something - else. Warmth and light, silence. The spell. He hastily shut down the link to Spike and concentrated. Something... _*girltouch redhair powerpowerpower*_ surged through him, and hard after that he felt _*darkman fatherfighterteacher demonkiller*_ and shuddered as Giles' power swirled over him. 

They seemed to float for a long moment, and then the sensation of movement - of light - and suddenly there was Adam, and _*Riley - what the hell is he doing here?*_ another soldier - two white-coated doctors. But they were _wrong_ somehow, all of it was wrong, like looking through the thick end of a glass bottle. 

And then _*Slayer*_ slammed through him, and that was _*eternal*_ and that was _*bloodandbones*_ and that was _*lonelylonelylonely*_ and Xander felt himself gasping for breath, somewhere far away - gasping and shivering but holding tight. He felt the soldier react - surging up to push knowledge and courage into the vessel, the hand. And the hyena whooped, lending _*bloodbloodblood*_ to the cresting wave of energy and perception.

Xander could feel Willow - Giles - beside him; _in_ him, and he could feel the three of them pouring everything they had into Buffy. Things got - bright. Xander could see the magic - lines of force and energy that curdled around the _*wrong*_ that was Adam and the _*dead*_ figures on the floor. Then they were moving and then there was heat and something - a different, rawer power that pulsed with a blinding light in _*my our Buffy's*_ hand. 

With a look, an easy breath, that spot of sun-bright poison was banished, pushed into a ripple of _*otherwhere*_ and gone. The lump of black and green-red _*rot*_ wrongness that was Adam crumpled and fell away. _*We her me*_ stood for a long moment, seeing the _*Riley*_ soldier, with bright red, glittering life spilling down his chest. And then blackness rushed in and they were _back_ , settling into their bodies with a jolting tingle as if they had fallen from some height. 

Xander blinked, staring dazedly at Giles - at Willow. They stared back, and then Giles was looking towards the secret room, towards where Buffy was, and Willow was saying _Wow_ and the outer door exploded inwards.

Something was there - _*darklife bloodlust*_ and then it was stumbling, crumpling, and Spike took its place, streaked with blood and ichors, panting, game-face. He was _*darklife*_ as well, but also _*olderthan chaos malice lovelovelove*_

Xander pushed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes and then it was just Spike, and he felt the last bit of the spell wisp away into nothingness as Buffy and Riley heaved open the other door and staggered in. Riley was all bloody down his chest and hands, and Buffy looked like she'd been in a whirlwind. Willow and Giles were struggling up, and Xander did too, holding out his hand to Willow, grinning at her like an idiot and _*love you love you safe*_ coming in hard from Spike. He looked over at the vampire, nodded once, pushing back _*love you love you*_ and Spike grinned and darted out again, into the ringing, blue-washed blackness of the Pit.

"We gotta help - whoever's left out there," Buffy panted, and they gathered themselves; Riley grabbing up Xander's abandoned gun, Giles hastily stuffing components and other detritus into the holdall. Willow staggered, holding her head, and Xander grabbed her, folding Spike's duster over his arm, holding it close to his body.

"Let's just get the hell out of here. Is there a way to open an exit from here? We can just grab whoever we see on our way out." Xander had no desire to 'muster the troops' or whatever Buffy might have in mind.

"That sounds reasonable," Giles said, and he turned to Riley, who was frowning.

"I don't know about any overrides on the exits - maybe Willow ...?"

"Yeah, I'm - I'm on it, guys. Get me back to that other room, I can do that." Xander got an arm around Willow and they all sidled out into the Pit. It was - horrifying. Blood, body parts, innards - it was a slaughterhouse, and almost impossible to tell the human dead from the demon. Willow gasped, putting a hand over her mouth, and Giles muttered something under his breath that sounded like _Good Lord_. The stench was incredible, the noise deafening. Something came at them, yipping, and Xander lunged and knocked Riley's arm aside, batting at the rifle barrel.

"Don't! It's Oz!" Xander yelled, and Riley shot him an incredulous look but pointed the rifle to the floor. Oz circled them, half-human, then more human, panting and wide-eyed, spattered with gore. He hadn't changed fully into the wolf, but his clothes were still torn from the shifts. He hitched unconsciously at jeans that had split along one seam, exposing a pale hip-bone.

"Get up there - second level - there's an entrance. It's where we came in - it's clear, comes out on campus. We blocked it open. Go!" He morphed back, snout and fangs but still on two feet, and pounced on something scaly that was heading for the stairs.

"Oh my God! Oz! Is he gonna be okay?" Willow's eyes were huge in startlement and shock, and Xander pulled her into a stumbling walk.

"Yeah - he'll be fine. He wanted to kick some ass, too. He came in with Spike."

"Where _is_ Spike?" Giles panted, grabbing the rail and beginning to climb the stairs. Xander knew exactly where he was - behind, left - but he made a show of looking around. Saw him, as the vampire leapt onto the back of a Fyarl demon and started twisting it's head off. 

Xander nudged Giles and pointed. "Look - he's killing one of your cousins."

Giles shot him an irritated look and Xander just grinned. Whatever had caught fire was still burning and the smoke was thicker, tinged with the reek of burning plastics and insulation. It was nauseating. Xander noticed that what was left of the demons and the humans were starting to form ranks and maybe even organize, and he sent _*home home home*_ at Spike, hoping he'd get out before he got recognized. Spike wrenched the demon's head around and looked up at him, then he looked around and dove off to one side. A moment later he and Oz were dodging bodies and knots of battling figures, heading towards them through the smoky murk. The stairs rang as Spike leaped, half the flight in one go. Oz was edging towards more human then wolf and he pushed past, getting up ahead of Buffy and Riley and beckoning them on, showing the way.

"All the bad guys dead, all the good guys unhurt then?" Spike asked, and Xander almost laughed at the sarcasm that dripped from his voice. "I take it the spell worked, Red?" Willow shot an amazed glance at Spike and then a huge smile stretched across her face.

"Oh, it was _amazing_! It was just - I could feel Xander and Giles right next to me! Well, sort of next to me, sort of _inside_ , only not _inside_ , if you know what I mean and then we were _whoosh_ and then we were Buffy and then..." 

Willow babbled on, panting, climbing, and Xander grinned at her and dropped back half a step, Spike's hand on the small of his back, just a moment's pressure and _*love you love you*_. 

They came out in a wooded area of campus, fairly dark, behind one of the dorms. Willow was still babbling, bouncing, and generally acting as if she'd drunk a triple espresso, and Giles and Buffy were much the same, comparing notes on how the spell had felt and Buffy reassuring Giles that Adam was dead. Xander felt the adrenal-laced tension in his own body - he wanted to run or fight or _*fuck*_ or something, just to get it all out. Behind them something rustled, creaked - something came out of the concealed hatchway they'd just exited and Spike pounced, pulling a draggled, bloodied figure out into the light. The person cringed, raising shaking hands up before his face, a warding gesture that made Spike snarl.

"Lab rat," he said, and shook the figure.

"I remember you," Buffy said, stepping closer, a stake appearing in her hand. "You were with Sunday's gang."

"Please - please help me..." the boy moaned, and Spike laughed.

"You got out - help yourself, wanker." Spike shoved him roughly, and the boy - vampire - stumbled to one knee.

" _Please_. I can't. They put - put something in m-me, I - it won't let me ch-change. It won't let me change." They all stood there, staring at the boy as he struggled to his feet, hands held out to them in supplication. 

_*Weak kill it*_ was coming from Spike, and the hyena agreed.

_*Sick ones die*_

"What do you mean, you can't change. Do you mean - your demonic aspect?" Giles was looking at the boy with a narrow-eyed, speculative look, and the vampire licked his lips, eyes darting from Giles to Buffy and then to Spike.

"Yeah. My o-other face. If I try to ch-change, it hurts. H-hurts so bad."

"There's your precious Initiative, Riley." Xander muttered, and Riley shot him a dark look. Somewhere behind him, Xander could feel Oz shivering - could hear small whines of anger or distress that the werewolf couldn't contain.

"What do you want," Spike asked, and the boy looked at him, his eyes wide and full of hate and fear and desperation.

"Just - would you...please, would you end it? Just k-kill me. I can't... " His voice broke and he covered his face with his hands, struggling for control.

"Not a problem," Buffy said, stepping up, her arm going up, and Spike rounded on her, snarling.

"Fuck off. _You_ don't end this for him - he's got a right to something better."

Buffy's eyes were wide and startled, but she looked from Spike to the shivering boy and backed off, her arm falling down at her side. "Fine. You do what you want. He's harmless, at least, so it doesn't matter what happens to him. I just want to go home. Come on, Riley." 

She turned on her heel and walked swiftly away, and Riley was right behind her. Willow clutched Xander's hand in hers, wide-eyed. "What - what are you gonna do, Spike?" she whispered. 

"Help him," Spike said. He looked around at them, grim-faced, and then the demon was there, and he turned back to the boy. _*Rage*_ had replaced the feelings of disgust, and Xander shivered. Oz came up on his other side, and Xander reached out and put his hand gently on Oz's shoulder for a moment. Oz glanced at him, then away, back to what Spike was doing.

Spike stepped up to the vampire and pulled him close - murmured something in the boy's ear, so soft, and the other nodded. Then Spike was bending to him and the boy was lifting his chin, eyes closed, and Spike was biting him - drinking him dry. As the vampire's life ran out into Spike's mouth, Xander felt it - a surge of energy and magic, ephemeral and _*sorrow fear lost oh lost*_ that made him gasp in a breath. He realized he'd bitten his lip through and licked it gingerly. 

Spike lifted his head and let out a keening wail that made all of them shiver, and Willow's hand in Xander's clenched down so tight he flinched. Then suddenly the boy was dust, collapsing in Spike's arms and gone, and Spike was slapping at his clothes, pointedly not looking at any of them.

"I think - I think it's time we went home, don't you, Willow? Tara and - and Anya will be..." Giles' voice was strained, and Xander saw some expression - surprise, maybe - before Giles schooled his features back to neutrality.

"Uh - yeah. Home. That'd be...of the good. I don't think I'm gonna sleep for a week." Willow turned to Xander and gave him a hug, and Xander felt _*girltouch redhair*_ again, her power back to the low and elusive hum he was used to. It had been - amazing, having Willow right there. Almost like when they were just kids, sitting under the covers in Willow's bed with a flashlight, Willow and Xander and Jesse; telling each other their deepest lies and darkest secrets and fondest dreams. Then she was slipping away, and telling Oz goodnight, and Giles was there, the faintest tang of _*demonkiller*_ still coming off him, dark but also somehow glowing at the edges. Just for a moment. And then he was only Giles, pushing his glasses back up and settling the strap of the holdall more comfortably across his shoulder.

 

"Xander - I would...I would very much like to speak to you about what we did, tonight. We're going to Buffy's house, a kind of...debriefing with popcorn. Are you coming?" Xander looked at him, and felt _*want*_ from Spike, and saw Oz studying his gory hands, so silent all this time, and he shook his head.

"No, I think - I just want to go home, Giles. I'll come around tomorrow after work maybe, okay? I'll call you." Giles just looked at him, his gaze steady and absolutely blank, and then he blinked and glanced at Oz - at Spike.

"All right, Xander. I'll expect to hear from you. Goodnight. Oz." He turned and marched off, Willow trotting along in his wake, and Xander sighed, his shoulders slumping. Spike was suddenly there, pulling him close, burrowing his face into Xander's neck and inhaling, scenting. Xander did the same, unmindful of the gore that streaked Spike's clothes, wanting only this, only Spike, _*want you need you*_ as hard as he could, and Spike's arms tightened around him and cool lips kissed Xander's throat, his jaw.

"Want you, too," Spike breathed in his ear, and they stood there for another moment until Xander remembered Oz, and where they were, and reluctantly pulled back.

"Let's go home." he whispered, and Spike's eyes flashed gold at him, and the vampire nodded, sweeping his duster up from the ground where Xander had unknowingly dropped it. He tossed it over his shoulder and moved around Xander to drop an arm over Oz's shoulders, hugging him close.

"You did good, wolfling. Saw you bring down your share a those bastards. Feelin' all right?"

Oz shrugged, eyes intent on the ground, then he looked up at Spike - over at Xander. "I didn't think I could do it - kill a human. But, being there - it was..." Oz trailed into silence, and Xander and Spike shared a look, and _*sorrow*_ came from Spike.

"You gonna be okay, Oz?" Xander asked softly, and Oz shrugged again.

When he spoke his voice was barely above a whisper - choked with emotion. "I don't think... Not really. Not for a long time - maybe not ever. But...it helped."

_*Helped that he killed them. Killed humans - other men. And woman - those doctors. His choice, his...revenge. I would have too, probably - I **did** want to be out there. Part of me did.*_

Xander started walking - they all did, headed towards Lowell house where they'd left their vehicles and snuck into the Initiative. "You know - the hyena really wanted to be out there with you. It was kinda pissed when I told it no."

"Super-Slayer spell not really enough for it, huh?" Spike asked, and Xander smiled a little.

"It was okay, actually, once we got it going. It was - pretty strange. Feeling those guys - Willow and Giles and then Buffy. I could _feel_...what I've only seen before. It was...amazing. Kinda scary." They walked in silence for a few more minutes, and then Xander looked over at Spike.

"Do you think - the Initiative is through? I mean, after that, they can't go on, can they?"

"Who knows? Bloody fools. They were stupid enough to do this in the first place... But probably they'll be out of here now. Losses were too high, I image - it'll be hard to cover this up. Don't fret, love. I reckon we've seen the last of them." 

_*Safe safe now*_ and Spike's gaze steady and serious. Xander sincerely hoped so. They walked on, Spike's arm cool and possessive around Xander's waist, his other still over Oz's shoulders, holding the shorter man close. Oz's arm had slipped around Spike's waist, below Xander's and Xander noticed that - noticed, and considered it, and decided that it was all right. He didn't feel any jealousy, or uneasiness. It just felt…

_*Pack. No harm*_ , the hyena said, and that feeling of being in a den, in a nest, came over him and he nodded to himself. Pack. It was all good.

 

By the time they got home, the edgy adrenaline rush was fading, and Xander felt as if lead weights had been attached to his limbs. They all wearily walked around to the back of the house, going in the bathroom door so that Oz and Spike could strip and clean up without trailing anything nasty through the house. Xander lit some candles, their soft glow relaxing him further, and went to get clean clothes for the others. He found flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt for Oz, then hesitated over Spike's drawer, wondering what the vampire would want. He heard the shower start, and glanced back toward the bathroom. Spike was standing in the doorway, nude body dappled with blood both human and demon. Even his hair was matted with it, and Xander felt a tugging on his throat as drying matter pulled the skin there - something smeared on him when Spike had kissed him.

"What do you want to wear, Spike? Jeans?"

"Can I - have a pair of your sweats, pet? Want something - "

"Comfy?" Xander grinned, and Spike ducked his head, looking up at him through his lashes and smiling that small, _real_ smile that made Xander want to kiss him into breathing.

"Yeah, comfy."

Xander pulled out an old pair of dark grey sweats and one of Spike's t-shirts. He took the pile of clothes into the bathroom, skirting around Spike with an exaggerated 'eewww' face and piling the clothes on the toilet tank.

"There you go." Xander looked at Spike, and Spike looked back, cocking his head to one side, just smiling.

_*Happy. He looks happy.*_

"So - you got 'em, huh? A bunch of those soldiers - the doctors. You get 'em all?"

"All I could find, pet. Got a good number. The wolf got a few. They were as panicky as a virgin on a troop ship - it wasn't too hard."

"So is it...over? Are you done with the Initiative?" Spike's eyebrow went up, and he took a step closer to Xander, glancing over at the steam-fogged cubicle of the shower.

"I dunno, love. If I see any more of them out and about - I imagine I'll do for 'em. But I think they'll be pullin' out now. Doubt I'll get anymore chances. I imagine soldier-boy will tell us what's what, in a day or so."

"Yeah, I imagine." Xander picked up his washcloth and dampened it under the faucet - wiped at the smear of _*blood*_ stuff on his neck and jaw. "Just don't... " Xander tossed the washcloth towards the washing machine, avoiding Spike's gaze.

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't... I'm just worried, is all. I don't want you hurt." Xander finally looked at Spike, frowning a little, and Spike looked back, serious now and _*yours*_ coming softly through the link. "If Riley finds out about what you did, tonight, he could...well, he could _try_ , and even if he didn't hurt you, he'd know... Just, be careful love. All right?"

Spike came up close to him - brought his face so close to Xander's, lips just millimeters from Xander's mouth. Xander shivered at the proximity - the cool, smoke-tinged breath that Spike pushed gently across his skin.

"Don't worry 'bout me, love. I'm gonna be careful. You'll see." Spike very gently, very carefully kissed Xander on the lips, not letting any other part of him touch, and Xander kissed him back - pulled away finally, and smiled into the clear blue eyes that could so easily captivate him.

"Trust you." _*love you need you*_

"Thank you, pet," Spike murmured, and _*love love you mine*_ Xander looked at Spike for a moment longer, then stepped around him and headed into the bedroom. He took off the soldier gear and put on sweats and a t-shirt, then went into the kitchen and grabbed a soda out of the 'fridge.

_*So tired*_

He headed for the living room and collapsed on the couch. He took a long drink, turned the TV on and started flicking through the channels. _*Amazing how crappy even this many channels can be*_ was the last thing that went through his mind, and then he was asleep, drifting down into a strange other place.

 

His father was trying to kill him. Xander struggled, gasping, trying to fend off the blows - trying to get away. His father was screaming - his eyes were blazing with hate and anger. Xander had never seen him so angry - so out of control. Then suddenly it wasn't his father, it was something - else. Something dark, something _*bloodandbones*_ and he was contorting in agony as the _*dark*_ thing tore into his chest - tore out his heart and he was falling, down his stairs, heading for the concrete at the bottom and blood was arcing away from his body, painting the _*dark*_ thing with slashes of crimson, spattering on the walls. Xander screamed, trying to stop his fall, knowing he was _*dead, I'm dead, tore out my heart*_ but still trying to stop his tumble down splintering wooden risers. 

_*It's gonna hurt, to hit the bottom, oh god it's gonna hurt*_

Someone was yelling at him.

"Xander - _Xander_! Wake up, pet, wake up, wake up." The voice battered at him, too loud, too _*fearful*_ sharp, and he moaned and pushed weakly at whatever it was that was holding him - shaking him.

" _Xander_! Come on love, wake up now, wake up, just a dream _*need you need you come back*_

Xander gasped in a great, whooping breath, clawing at the arms holding him, desperate for breath, for something to ease the burning _*fading*_ pain in his chest. He opened his eyes, panting, and Oz was there, wide-eyed, holding a towel in one hand, looking utterly freaked. Xander breathed, breathed - realized it was Spike holding him tight against a cool chest, arms wrapped around him, lips in his hair as the vampire crooned into his ear, quiet now, so soft.

"Come on, love, that's it now, you're awake, just a dream, love, wake up now, just a dream, I've got you, pet, I've got you." Spike was rocking him, stroking his sweat-damp hair back from his forehead, and Xander finally relaxed. He blinked and swallowed, then tried to talk. All that came out was a sort of croak, and Oz was up and out of his line of sight, sound of the 'fridge opening and then he was back, a glass of water in his hand, holding it up to Xander's mouth. Xander tried to take it - to do it himself, but his hands were shaking and totally limp, and he surrendered to it and let Oz tilt the glass to his lips and sipped at the cold _*wonderful*_ water. After a minute he was done, and Oz set the glass on the coffee table, smiling just a little, his eyes still wide, his hair damp from the shower.

"You okay, Xander?"

"I - " Xander coughed, swallowed, tried again. "I think so. I - what happened? I fell asleep out here and then...I was...my dad was... " He stopped, the images too clear, too ugly, and Spike hugged him hard, tugging him around so that he could look at Xander. Oz put the towel on the floor, picking up Xander's fallen soda can, mopping spilled soda.

"Just a dream, love. You feel ok?" Spike's eyes were as wide and freaked as Oz's, and Xander felt a little flutter of fear down in his belly.

"I'm fine, I guess. What's the deal? I've had nightmares before - why are you guys all..." Xander waved his hands loosely, trying to explain. "Why are you guys all wigged out?" Spike kissed his forehead, cheek, then lips, quick and soft, his hand trembling on Xander's shoulder.

_*Love you safe safe*_

"You were - thrashin' around, pet. Like a seizure. We couldn't wake you up - you were screaming and... It was weird. What in bloody hell were you dreaming about?"

Xander looked from Spike to Oz, seeing the same fear, the same bewilderment. "I - dunno. It was... Tara and Willow were there, and....all of you guys were, everybody. It was so strange. Giles was gonna train you to be a Watcher, Spike - you were both wearing these tweed suits - "

"That _is_ scary," Oz said, and he grinned, and Xander couldn't help it, he giggled. Spike frowned at him, but _*laughter*_ was coming through the link, and Xander reached and patted his cheek. "You look hot in tweed, Spike," he snorted out, and Oz started giggling too, his eyes losing some of the panic and his body losing its bow-string tautness. He swiped at the floor and put the stained towel on the coffee table.

Spike glared at the both of them, and then reluctantly he started to smile. "What else did you dream about? Me in tweed wasn't the worst part."

"It was pretty bad," Xander said, still chuckling, and he rubbed his hand back through his lank hair. "Yuck. I need a shower now, too. Okay, what else. I dreamed about...Principal Snyder. He told me... wow. He told me I was a whipping boy raised by mongrels and set on a sacrificial stone." Xander shivered, remembering that. It was...too close to what he'd always felt, about himself - his family. Tainted blood, never quite good enough, and Spike was pulling him close again, smoothing back his hair and kissing the side of his neck, shushing him.

_*Mine my own **want** you*_

"Now, love, that's not so. You know it isn't. He's the one got eaten by the snake-Mayor, right?"

"Yeah. He's dead."

"Never mind him, then. Anything else?" 

Xander closed his eyes for a minute, then opened them wide as the final images came back to him. "Yeah. I was - back in the basement and my dad came crashing through the door. He was...trying to kill me. Then he _did_ , only it wasn't _him_ , anymore, it was something...else. Something...dark. Blood and bones..." He whispered the last, catching at some memory, and then it was gone and he looked up at Spike - over at Oz.

"That's got to be the weirdest dream I've ever had. And you guys - couldn't wake me up?" 

Oz shook his head - reached back for the glass of water and offered it to Xander again, who took it himself this time, drinking it eagerly. "Yeah. Spike was yelling in your ear practically and you were just - out of it. It was freaky."

Xander realized suddenly that he was on Spike's lap, tucked up in the corner of the couch and he stretched his legs a bit, settling his head on Spike's shoulder. Oz took the glass back and Xander smiled at him.

"I'm glad I woke up. That...wasn't nice."

"M'glad too, pet," Spike murmured in his ear. _*Love you mine never leave me love you*_

"Never leave you, Spike," Xander whispered back, and kissed the soft skin just behind the hinge of Spike's jaw, gently. At that moment the phone rang and they all jumped, Spike cursing softly and Oz pushing himself up and going to answer it.

"Hello? Oh hey, Buff... Yeah, he is. You wanna talk to him?" Oz came over and silently handed the phone to Xander who sat up a little bit.

"Buffy?"

"Xander! Are you okay? The weirdest thing happened here - "

"I'm fine, Buffy. By weird, do you mean - some sort of freaky dream?"

"Yeah! You too?"

"Yeah, me too. It was - really strange. Spike and Oz were kinda - wiggin'. They couldn't wake me up."

"It was the first Slayer."

"What?" Xander sat up straighter, glancing at Spike, who was frowning. _*He can hear everything she's saying*_ , Xander remembered. _*Oz too. No more private phone calls*_ "What do you mean?"

 

"The first Slayer. She was - pissed off, or something. That spell we did to take Adam down, it - I dunno what it did. But she wasn't happy. She tried to kill all of us in our dreams. Well, she _did_ kill Willow and Giles - what about you?"

"Yeah, she got me, too. But I'm guessin' you got her?"

"Yeah, I kicked her mud-encrusted, five-thousand-years-in-bed-head butt."

"Cool. Guess I owe you one." Spike bared his teeth at that and Xander caressed his cheek, ginning at him.

"Nah. Just tell me one thing. Did you see this guy with...cheese?"

Xander felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up and he snapped his teeth shut for a moment to keep it in. "Ah, actually...I did. He told me - the cheese would not protect me."

There was total silence from Buffy, and then an explosive breath, as if she'd been holding it. Oz was staring at him, hand clamped over his mouth and belly heaving as he tried to stifle laughter.

"Thank God. I thought I was going crazy. Okay, so, you're all right, everything's fine now, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. I'm gonna - get a shower, go to bed. I don't suppose she'll be back, huh?"

"I really don't think so. Xander... "

"Yeah?"

"It was - great, tonight. What you did - that spell and everything. I could feel you there - you made me brave." 

Spike growled, very low, and Xander put his fingers on the vampire's lips, looking at him and thinking _*yours yours always*_ "It was pretty cool, wasn't it? I'm - glad I could help." There was a moment's silence, and then Xander softly said, "Goodnight, Buffy."

"Goodnight. See you later."

"Yeah" Buffy hung up, and Xander set the phone down on the coffee table. Spike looked - pissed, and Xander took a deep breath and started levering himself up. "I really need to get a shower, and then I really need to go to bed. Work tomorrow and all."

"Oh yeah - I gotta work tomorrow too," Oz said, with a sort of surprised look on his face, like he'd forgotten all about it.

"You got a job then?" Xander asked, standing all the way up and grabbing Spike's hand, tugging at him. Spike resisted for a moment then came to his feet, still pissed-off looking.

_*Sulking*_ , the soldier snapped, and Xander almost laughed.

"Yeah, over at that shop - the Magic Box? I figure maybe I could learn a few things, you know - useful sort of Hellmouthy stuff. Plus - employee discount for all your apocalyptic needs." 

This time Xander did laugh, and started out of the room pulling Spike along behind him. "Cool. Need me to wake you up?"

"Nah - I've got an alarm. Thanks, though."

"Goodnight, Oz."

" 'Night, Xander. 'Night Spike." Spike rolled his eyes at Oz and Oz just grinned. Xander bent over the candles in the kitchen, blowing them out, then dragged his sulky vampire through to the bedroom, shutting the door quietly. Spike pulled away and slumped on the bed, staring at the floor.

"I'm gonna shower. Wanna join me?" Xander asked. 

Spike glanced up at him, then away, and the link was dead silent. "Already showered, " he mumbled, and Xander nodded slowly. 

"Ok. I'll just be a couple minutes." He turned and went into the bathroom and took a fast shower and brushed his teeth. Back to the bedroom and Spike already in the bed, curled up tight on the far side, quilt practically over his head. Xander looked at him for a minute, then walked over and sat on his side of the bed. He set his alarm, blew out the candle on the bedside table, and slid under the covers. Spike didn't move, and Xander sighed - shifted over, finally, and wormed his way around the tightly coiled body, settling his chin on Spike's shoulder and covering the vampire's tucked arms with his own.

"Spike," he breathed, and _*love you love you*_ as hard as he could. Spike twitched, then was still again. "Spike - please. Don't shut me out. Please? You're...it's scary, Spike, when I can't hear you."

Spike twitched again - uncoiled a little and finally _*mine mine mine*_ came through the link, fragile and almost imperceptible.

"Course I'm yours. Course I am. Why would you think I wasn't? Spike?"

"I could hear her, you know. Slayer. Tellin' you how great that spell was. The Scooby Gang to the rescue an' all. Guess you - wanna be mates again, eh? Guess you're...back in the gang again."

Spike rubbed his head into the pillow, drawing a deep breath, and Xander tugged at him, making him turn over. He could see just a bit in the dark room - more then he usually could. The barest illumination from a streetlight edged around the top of the curtains, so that he could see Spike's face, but not his expression. He knew Spike could see him much more clearly, though - if he chose to.

"Look at me, Spike. Please? It felt - really good to help them. To actually be of _use_ to them - to the...fight, whatever it is. I liked it. But - I'm not going to abandon you, love. Don't you know that?"  
Spike shifted, turning over onto his back and then more, until he was on his side, facing Xander. Xander knew that he'd changed - two glowing gold eyes were suddenly there, staring at him, and Xander reached up and gently stroked Spike's face, feeling the alien contours, catching his fingertip on a razor-edged fang and pricking it just slightly. Spike inhaled, and Xander felt his cool tongue lapping at his finger, taking the drop of blood.

_*He's so much **older** \- done so much more...how can he be so - scared? I'm the one that should be scared...*_ "Spike - I won't ever leave you _*never leave mine always mine*_.

Spike shivered, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion - strained and almost inaudible.  
" Dru...left. She chose me - chose _me_. Saw me at my worst and wanted me. Made me hers forever an'...she's gone. And my mum...she denied me, at the end. Didn't...didn't want me. The Family - they never took to me. I didn't care...but... Angelus...everyone leaves, pet. Everyone leaves m-me and...I can't help it if I just - want too much."

He stopped, and the eyes winked out - closed. Xander slid his hand around Spike's throat - cupped the nape of his neck in his hand and tugged Spike close, carefully finding the vampire's lips in the dark and kissing him, slow and gentle, mindful of the fangs. Spike was frozen for a moment, and then he began kissing back - the fangs withdrew suddenly, and Xander kissed harder, pushing Spike flat and curling his arms under Spike's shoulders, holding him close, cradling him. He whispered to him as he kissed, whispered and felt, and did his best to reassure this…

_*This demon. This man. This child. He expects me to **leave**...and all I can do is hope to be enough. Let me be enough...*_ "I love you - love you. Never felt this way about anyone - never want this to end. Love you, you're _mine_ , my Spike and I see you and I choose you, love, I choose you..." 

Spike was rigid - trembling in his arms, and suddenly he took in a deep, shaking breath and hugged Xander hard, claiming his mouth in frantic, bruising kisses that Xander returned whole-heartedly, pressing every inch of himself to the cool, shivering body beneath him. "Oh, love you, Xander, love you...sorry, don't be mad..."

"No, love, not mad... " The kiss deepened - slowed - and after a while they were locked together, Spike wrapped around Xander like a second skin, Xander pressed tight to Spike, rocking his hips, as deep inside Spike as he could get, his lips and teeth on the vampire's throat, marking him again and again, Spike crying out as Xander drew blood and then soothed the place with his tongue. Spike shuddered to orgasm, silent again, and then Xander felt the fangs, prickling over his shoulder, teasing, and then sinking in, and he was rigid, gasping, the fire-and-ice of it rolling over him, wringing him dry. 

They lay together, fingers and lips gently touching and knowing, until they both slipped into dreamless sleep.


	16. Details

Xander lay on his back in bed, his mind only half-awake and his body not even close. Something had woken him... Ah. The shower. Spike was back. Xander shifted in the bed a little, letting himself drift. In a few minutes there'd be cuddling and quite possibly sex, and he grinned in anticipation. Squinted at the clock and saw it was only 4 a.m. Spike was back _early_. Did that mean he was hurt? Xander's eyes opened wide in the darkness and the sleepy languor left him. _*Love what hurt*_ , he sent, and what came back was the mental equivalent of an eye-roll. Xander giggled and slipped out of bed, the exhaustion and strangeness of the past twenty-four hours completely gone. He padded into the bathroom, looking for clues. The duster was hung up, as usual. 

_*Not dripping blood, that's good*_ Boots there - one upturned sole showing the beginnings of a hole. _*Needs to get those re-soled, again.*_ Spike's clothes were in a tangle near the washing machine and Xander picked them up. Jeans - whole but bloody. Over shirt - torn and damp. Xander touched a finger to a damp place on the red silk and grimaced when it came away smeared with blood. T-shirt - definitely shredded - in fact, garbage. Xander tossed it into the trash, dropped the rest of the clothes back to the floor and turned to the shower.

Spike stood in the stall, arms crossed, grinning at him, the open door dripping onto the floor and a bank of steam eddying out. Something on his body - blood?

"Got me all sorted then, love?" 

Xander grinned back and stepped into the shower, gasping a little at the temperature Spike had the water set on. He pulled the door shut and immediately began to feel a little breathless from the steam.

"You're back early. I wondered if you were hurt. And - you _are_!" Xander grabbed Spike's wrists and pulled his arms away from his body. Underneath were two sets of deep, parallel scratches, still oozing just a bit, a crisscrossing V-shape from collarbones to navel. "What happened?" Spike pulled Xander closer, resting his forehead on Xander's and sighing. 

_*Uh oh. This is the 'I love you lots I did something you'll hate' pose. What now?*_ "Spike..." _*Tell tell love you*_

"Went and collected my 'leven pounds, didn't I?"

"Eleven...pounds? What?" Now Xander got the _actual_ eye roll and he put his hands on the tiles on either side of Spike's head and leaned into the vampire's body, pressing his groin lightly to Spike's, letting his tongue find the strong tendon of Spike's neck. _Need_ already coursing through Xander, making him hard. Spike shifted, hands on Xander's hips, and drew in a small breath. " _Tell me_ , Spike, before I haf'ta...torture it out of you." 

Xander bit lightly at Spike's neck, right above his collarbone, and Spike shivered, his fingers tightening down, his head going back into the wall with a soft thump.

"Poncey bastard owed me, ssso I went to c-collect..." Xander continued to nibble and lick - softer, harder, his hips keeping up a firm pressure. He felt Spike's erection pressing insistently at his, and he did the little hip-roll thing, eliciting a breathy moan from the vampire.

"What bastard? What eleven pounds? How'd you get the cuts?" Xander bit down suddenly on Spike's throat - on the jugular - and held him, almost hard enough to break the skin but not quite. Spike arched fiercely into him, his hips pumping mindlessly, and Xander shook him, just a little, letting the hyena have its fun.

_*Mine mine kill what did it mine*_

"Xan-derrrr..." Spike moaned, and Xander bit a little harder, feeling his teeth sink in.

_* **Tell** *_

"Drac - that bastard - got my...p-pound of flesh, didn't I; got that bastard...please, please..."

Xander let go of Spike's throat - grabbed his shoulders and turned him, pushing him into the wall, running his hands down Spike's arms and capturing his wrists; lifting and pressing the vampire's hands against the tile, above his head. Xander's own cock was throbbing with want, the hyena desperate to re-claim what was theirs, and the _*want want want*_ coming off of Spike - the sub-sonic growl that was vibrating through Spike's chest - was pushing Xander over the edge. He filled his palm with soap and roughly slicked himself - forced two fingers into Spike and groaned aloud when Spike surged backwards, ready and eager. 

_*Please fuck now **now** *_ washing through him, a wave of desire and _need_ that made Xander's knees weak .

Xander kicked Spike's legs further apart and then he was pushing in, _forcing_ himself in, the pants and whimpers of mingled pain and pleasure only spurring him on. He'd learned a lot about that, these past couple of weeks. How much Spike could take - how much he _needed_ to take, sometimes - and it no longer made him angry, or sick. Now it was another turn on a wheel - soft and gentle, playful, passionate, brutal - and he wanted it as much as Spike did. Wanted to claim what was his, however he could.

_*Rival*_

Someone else had touched what was his - _hurt_ what was his, and he needed - the hyena needed - to wipe out all memory of that other; to re-establish its own supremacy over all others in Spike's life. Which was exactly the same reason Spike had done - whatever he'd done - to Dracula.

Xander surged forward and buried himself, and Spike moaned aloud - the moan going to a rising wail as Xander once again sank his teeth into Spike's throat and began to thrust furiously into him, hard as he could. Which was damn hard, lately. Spike was right - Xander wasn't like the other boys, anymore.

As he drove into him, Xander slipped one hand around and began to stroke Spike's cock, hard and tight, making it rough. Spike was nearly silent now, gasping for one hard breath after another, his body like iron under Xander and his hips moving in helpless, furious counterpoint to Xander's. The surges of want and lust that they were both sending to each other only made them more desperate - more frantic - and Xander felt the wave of fiery heat, like lightning, rippling through him as he neared orgasm.

Spike writhed under him _*blood need*_ and Xander brought his arm up, pushing it against Spike's mouth. They both bit down at the same moment; Spike's blood like champagne in Xander's mouth, alive and tingling with _*magic demon mine*_. Spike's fangs in his forearm, a point of heat and shuddering _*want*_ that encompassed his whole body, and they both stiffened into orgasm, Xander groaning into Spike's neck, Spike snarling and growling like some kind of feral cat, the demon to the fore and his jaws locked down hard on Xander's arm.

It took long minutes to come down from that, and Xander just leaned on Spike, gasping harshly, letting his cock slip free by slow degrees, curling his arms around Spike's heaving ribs and resting his forehead on the water-warmed back. He couldn't help his tongue going out to taste Spike, again and again, little licks that gathered in the spice and smoke of him - taste of unreal and unliving flesh that was _*everything mine always mine*_ Spike was mouthing the bite on Xander's forearm - soothing it with strokes of his tongue, kissing gently where he'd bitten so deeply a moment before. 

_*That's gonna be sore*_ , Xander thought fuzzily.

_*Love you love you yours*_ , from Spike, and he turned himself, gathering Xander into his arms, his eyes half-shut and the look of a satisfied cat on his face. Xander kissed him, tasting blood and whiskey and _Spike_ , content to just lean there and slowly re-learn every inch of Spike's mouth. Xander had no idea how long they stood there, just lost in each other, lost in the feel and scent and taste of the other. But Spike shivered suddenly, and Xander realized that the water was cooling off. 

"Come on, love, let's get dry and get into bed and you can tell me _all_ about your adventures tonight." Spike snorted, shooting him a _look_ , and they got out and dried off. The cuts on Spike's torso had sealed, and were starting to fade - they'd be gone by the time Xander got home from work, he was sure. But the sight of them brought another wave of _*mine mine **kill it** *_ from the hyena, and Spike laughed softly and pulled Xander into the bedroom, tumbling the human down into the rumpled covers and kissing him hard.

"Don't worry 'bout Drac, pet. He'll be healin' for _days_ \- and on the move, as well, since I burned his fuckin' house down." A brief wash of rage and glee from the demon and Xander shivered, wondering just what Spike had done.

"Why didn't he just - do the mist thing or the bat thing - get away from you?" Xander squirmed around, getting the covers over them, and Spike settled behind him, pressing as close as he could, one arm under Xander's pillow, elbow bent and fingertips in Xander's hair, the other curling around Xander's chest, held tight by Xander's own arms. Spike buried his nose in the damp sable hair and inhaled. 

_*Love you smell good*_ "'Cause he's a wanker, that's why. That gypsy shite is for the food - he wouldn't pull it on another vamp. 'Sides, he thought he could beat me." Spike laughed, kissing the back of Xander's neck. "He was pretty weak from tusslin' with the Slayer and _still_ thought he could take me on. He always did have more balls then brains. An' I'm not above takin' advantage of a situation, neither." 

_*Sick ones die*_ , the hyena insisted, and _*Outsider*_ , from the demon.

"So - he's gone. That's good." Xander shuddered a little, remembering the feeling of being under Dracula's thrall - the _otherness_ that had been like mist in his brain, drowning out his own thoughts and impulses, smothering everything into dullness. 

Spike felt his unease and nuzzled closer, murmuring reassurances, and Xander closed his eyes. Smiled, when he felt the bone-deep rumble of the purr start, Spike knowing how much Xander loved that. Xander felt safe, there, enfolded and protected and _*love love*_ and he let himself remember.

 

 

_Xander walked beside Willow, heading for the cemetery - out on **patrol** \- something he'd done with the gang so seldom lately it was almost strange. The Initiative gone and Riley gone and back already, things settling into Hellmouth normal and he felt...all wrong, being there. It was ***not pack*** and Xander wished he'd agreed to meet Willow somewhere else._

_Willow was doing her hyper-drive double-speak thing, wringing her hands and going on about secrets - the reason he'd agreed to come out at all. Willow had told him she had something important to talk about, and he was wondering when she was going to just blurt it out and **say** it. She was terrible at innuendo and couldn't keep a secret to save her life._

_Spike was off doing something nasty to some vamps that had been stupid enough to choose the old High School as their nesting place. He was taking his Master of Sunnydale title seriously - at least for now. He'd told Xander he wasn't going to kill every demon or vamp he came across, but he **was** going to keep the more foolish and foolhardy from messing with the Hellmouth._

_***No opening portals into demon dimensions and sending us all to Hell on MY watch, pet*** _

_By the time they got to the cemetery, Willow still hadn't actually said anything, even though she'd talked almost non-stop the whole way, and Xander was almost glad when Buffy warned them away. But too late, whatever she'd been on about was suddenly **there** , and Xander found himself looking into a pale and dark-eyed face that held them all spellbound._

_***Dracula? He really exists. Who'd have thought? But still, cheesy cloak. That's SO last century. Spike'll laugh...*** Then Dracula was gone - or rather, was a **bat** \- and they ducked and covered until he - it - flew, squeaking, away._

_***Huh. Wonder if Spike can do that? That's...fairly cool. I'll bet Angel can't.*** _

_They spent the next hour at Giles' house, listening to Buffy rave about her apparent notoriety with the undead set; to Willow stammer about dark and penetrating eyes, and to Anya - who'd come by to borrow a book from Giles - about past dates with the Prince of Evil, or whatever._

_Xander shared a **look** with Giles and Tara of mingled incredulity and amazement, and left when Riley and Buffy started to bicker about...something. ***And I so don't care. Dark Prince or not, even Buffy wouldn't go for a guy in a cape.***_

_Xander walked briskly back towards the cemetery - he was going to meet Spike at the vampire's old crypt, get the truck and go for a game of pool. Friday night, and they had both felt like going out and doing something...mundane. They were also going to talk about Oz. Ever since the night the Initiative had gone down, Oz had been... He'd been **wrong** , somehow, in a way Xander couldn't put his finger on, but that bothered both him and Spike. The werewolf was quieter then ever, so serious, and he looked tired - looked haunted, as if his thoughts were too much for him. He only seemed happy when they did their own patrols, and then he was more feral, more vicious, than Xander had ever thought the quiet boy could be. Spike and Xander were both unhappy and uneasy, and were determined to fix it, whatever it was. Xander entered the cemetery, something just on the edge of his awareness, making the hyena cast about, senses as open as possible._

_And then...there was... Xander found himself standing in the cemetery, hands lax at his sides, staring into space. Something had... He tried to think, retracing steps in his mind. Willow-babble. Dark Prince. Giles' house. Walking to the crypt...nothing. A blank wall of mist - flickering images that made no sense. A wolf ***Oz?*** , dark eyes, long-nailed hand just touching his cheek... _

_Xander shivered all over, wondering how long he'd been standing there. He felt as if spiders were crawling on him and he brushed half-heartedly at himself._

_***No...not spiders...nothing was...*** He couldn't seem to finish a thought, and he could feel, somewhere deep in his mind, the hyena going into full panic-mode. But even that seemed dull and far away - wrapped in cotton wool and unimportant. _

_***What was I...?*** Spike. He was going to meet Spike. He'd left his truck parked near Spike's old crypt and they were going to... Xander stumbled forward through the cemetery, bewildered, and finally the crypt was in view. There was a faint light inside it - Spike had a lit a candle, it seemed, and Xander stopped outside the door, swaying just a little. Inside he could hear voices - Spike and...Riley?_

_***How long was I standing there? I should...*** He listened to the conversation but it only came through as a sort of low buzz - no words, just tone and cadence, and he finally turned away and wandered off - found his truck and sat in it, waiting. A few minutes later Spike was there, leaning into the open window, grinning at him. _

_"I'm gonna kill Captain Cardboard, pet, you mind?" he said, gleeful and utterly serious. Then, abruptly, Spike was wrenching the door open, dragging Xander out, and Xander was pushing at him, confused._

_"What in **hell** is up with you? Xander?"_

_Xander looked at Spike ***vampire*** and giggled a little, wobbling in Spike's fierce grip. "He's gonna make me, you know, immortal. Just get Buffy to him and - poof!" Xander giggled again and Spike was game-faced, snarling._

_"That bloody **bastard**. Fuck, should have... Come on, Xan-love, get in the truck." Spike pushed him inside, digging his keys out of a duster pocket, and started the truck. Xander rocked a little in his seat, humming to himself. Spike ***vampire not the Master rival*** shot him glances of mixed fury and anxiety. When they got to the house he hustled Xander up the steps and inside, startling Oz, who was curled on the fold-out couch they'd acquired; something Tibetan and voiceless playing on the stereo, a book propped on his knees._

_"What's up, guys?"_

_"Bloody Dracula. He's fuckin' **thralled** Xander, the wanker." Spike pushed Xander down onto the edge of the mattress and Oz dropped his book, eyes shifting from green to black and back again as he took stock._

_" **Dracula**? Wow. Is - Xander hurt?"_

_"Nah. Not hurt. Just - under his spell, like. That ponce's got the trick of it, almost as good as Dru." Spike lit a cigarette and puffed hard, staring at Xander. Xander watched him, hearing the hyena howling somewhere. The hyena was trying to use the link, but the soldier was blocking it - blocking them all, and seemingly blocking Spike, as well. The soldier mumbled about infiltrators and perimeters and Xander felt as if he'd been re-set, somehow, or just...put on standby._

_He wanted to get up, kiss Spike, go find Dracula and ***He promised. Immortal. Dark gifts...*** A flicker of coiling mist, white on white, a blur of a face; red lips and chilled fingers on his jaw, scent of **age** and earth and something like burning, like lightning. The crawly spidery feeling came over him again, and Xander jumped up, feeling his hands clench together, feeling his shoulders hunch as the skittering twitches washed over him. He wanted to claw himself bloody, but the mist blinked across his vision again, drowning that thought, so he rocked instead, plucking at the hem of his shirt, rolling it in his fingers, twisting it. The Master was... chose him to be... Xander thought he was talking, but he couldn't be sure. He put his fingers to his mouth and sure enough, his lips were moving, his tongue. He giggled at that and absently clawed his cheek, feeling ***spiders... no, not...***_

_"Mustn't touch, mustn't touch..." he sing-songed, and Spike stepped over to him and pulled his hand away. Dimly, he could hear Oz and Spike talking, then Spike was leading him into the kitchen, sitting him in a chair. Xander stared at the candles in the middle of the table, lost in the flicker-jump of the flame in a moment, content to just stare._

_The dullness that had settled over him was horrifying - everything was muffled, except for that nasty sensation of bugs crawling over his skin. He fought it, but it was like fighting mist - he couldn't get a grip on it. Then something was pushing at his mouth - rim of a glass, and he drank without thinking, choking as he swallowed a huge mouthful of Spike's whiskey. He coughed, gasping - felt someone pounding his back and then the glass again, and more of the fiery liquid burning down his throat. He swallowed convulsively, Spike's voice murmuring in his ear, Oz's particular scent ***dark warm pine earth*** in his nostrils. After a bit the candle flames started swimming, merging, and he put his head down, shuddering. _

_It was - horrible. His skin seemed to be trying to crawl off him and he couldn't touch ***mustn't touch*** and it was driving him crazy. He clawed at the table-top, whimpering, and the mist again, a voice whispering ***mine***. But it wasn't **Spike's** voice and the hyena howled, frantic and furious, and Xander watched the mist darken to black, and then everything was gone._

_When he came to himself he was in the corner of the living room, rocking unsteadily on his feet, his head pounding. It was just sunset outside, and he hummed to himself, fingers tapping restlessly against his thighs, more of that **babble** coming out of his mouth but he couldn't stop it and ***Master wants her, wants her, have to go... she's chosen too, she's…***_

_He sank his fingers into his hair, moaning, yanking furiously, and suddenly there were cool fingers on his wrists - on his hands - delicately prising his fingers apart and pulling his hands down, stilling them._

_"Xander - love, don't. What is it?" Spike's voice ***not Master rival*** and Xander twitched away, looking dazedly around at Spike. The vampire's face was drawn, exhausted, and his eyes red-rimmed. Smoke and whiskey smell like a wall around him and even as Xander stood there, mute and uncomprehending, Spike snarled. The demon came to the fore and then gone, and Spike looked over his shoulder at Oz, who was hanging up the phone._

_"Buffy's at Anya's place - they thought that'd be safer. Willow said Giles and Riley found a place, they're pretty sure it's Dracula's lair. They're headed over there now."_

_Xander heard the words but all that he comprehended was ***Buffy - Anya's place...found the lair...Master needs her, have to go, have to go, have to GO!*** He wrenched at the cool hands holding his wrists and Spike tried to soothe him, petting his face._

_"It'll be alright, love -"_

_"Got to **go** , got to take her - let me go, letme **GO**!" They hyena was hysterical - Xander couldn't tell if it wanted to stay or leave, just felt the panic and it made it all worse, made the ***spiders*** worse, and he screamed, battering at Spike, knowing he had to **go**._

_Suddenly Spike was gone - backing off, demon snarling but Oz there, too, hand on Spike's arm and saying something. Spike hissed at him but then he nodded his head, a fleeting touch to Oz's shoulder, and they were still, watching him. Xander watched them back, uncertain, but the mist suddenly cleared, just a bit, and he saw ***dark eyes Master...wants*** and he knew Dracula was awake - was calling. The sun was down. _

_Xander bolted, hearing the others behind him and not caring. He headed for Anya's apartment, for Buffy ***get to the Master*** , his lungs burning as he ran. The rest was a blur - Anya all surprised to see him, still talking about Dracula - Buffy hollow-eyed on the couch, watching him, Dracula's bite-mark dark on her throat. Then Anya was... _

_***Hurt her? Didn't hurt her...in the closet*** , and that was all right. Then he and Buffy were walking along the street, going towards a house ***It's a castle!*** that Xander had never seen before. Xander could **feel** Spike somewhere behind him - the soldier couldn't block **that** , even though he tried. But it didn't matter - Xander just needed to **get there** , and everything would be ***better, be better then, he'll give me...***_

_They went inside, Dracula taking Buffy, and Xander felt himself relaxing, ***safe now*** , until Riley was there, saying something and ***threatening the Master!*** , and Xander launched himself at the ex-soldier, snarling. Then pain exploding in his head, and nothing, nothing._

_When he struggled awake, head throbbing, the first thing he saw was Spike hovering over him, eyes wide and anxious and golden, the demon barely leashed._

_"Xander - you all right? Xander?" ***love you love you MINE*** Xander struggled upright, Spike helping him, and he clutched at his head._

_"Christ. I feel... What did I - oh my God! Is Buffy okay? Is Anya - what did I -"_

_"Love, shh, it's all right, everyone's all right. He's gone, gone for now, the Slayer got him."_

_"Oh, man..." Xander felt his jaw, wincing, and Spike snarled._

_"Riley, that fuck -" ***kill him hurt you KILL HIM***_

_"No, no, Spike, it's okay, I attacked him and he just - he was trying to save Buffy, it's..." ***love you yours always HOME*** and Spike gathered him close, hugging him so hard he could barely breathe._

_"I've got you now, love, got you now. We'll go home, we'll -" ***mine mine protect***_

_"Okay, Spike, okay..." Xander hugged him back - turned his head and caught Spike's mouth in a hard kiss._

_"Hey, guys -" Oz's voice, quiet, and they broke apart. Spike pulled Xander to his feet, steadying him, and Xander smiled at him, ***love you*** and turned to meet Giles and Riley and Buffy, coming through the door._

_"Buffy! You okay? Did'ja get him?"_

_"Oh yeah. Got him. Got him **twice** , actually."_

_"Gypsy shite," Spike muttered, and Buffy frowned at him._

_"Spike! What're **you** doing here?"_

_Spike scowled back, going through the ritual of lighting a cigarette, the link thrumming with rage and hate, so strong that Xander felt his heart begin to pound. "The boy was actin' all funny, me an' the wolfling thought we'd better keep an eye on him." Spike blew a lungful of smoke in Buffy's direction and she shifted, hand clenching down on the stake she held. "Thought you might need a little help with the ponce." Spike made a vague gesture around at the castle with the cigarette._

_"No, I didn't need any help, and Xander didn't need your help, either."_

_"Hey - the more the merrier, huh? I can't believe he - **thralled** me! I didn't - hurt anybody, did I?"_

_"Nah, you were fine, man. We got you drunk last night, you were passed out for hours." Oz grinned at him and Xander stared back._

_"You did? No wonder my mouth tastes like the bottom of a shoe."_

_***calm calm love you*** Xander pushed that **hard** through the link, and Spike, who had been pacing agitatedly up and down finally stilled, flicking his cigarette butt away._

_"I think it's definitely time to call it a night. Wouldn't you say, Riley?" Giles was polishing his glasses and Riley grinned at him, gathering Buffy close into his arms._

_"Yeah, I think you're right - I know you must be tired after your...encounter with the ladies of the night." Riley sniggered into Buffy's hair and Buffy looked wide-eyed over at Giles._

_"What? Giles? Did you have an...encounter?"_

_Giles flushed, fiddling with his glasses, finally putting them back on and straightening his shoulders. "I was just about to - to stake them when Riley arrived -" They wandered out, talking, and Buffy looked back over her shoulder._

_"You'll get Xander home safe, right Oz?" she called, and Oz nodded. Then they were gone, and Spike immediately swept Xander up in another hard hug, kissing his neck and face, finally his mouth, slow and sweet and ***home want you love***_

_"Yeah, let's go home." Xander touched Spike's cheek, cupping it, and Spike rubbed into the contact, eyes closing. ***need you*** "So, why'd you get me drunk?"_

_"You were really freakin' out. It seemed like a good idea." Oz smirked at him and Xander pulled him close for a one-armed hug, still tangled with Spike._

_"Thanks. I think. I need an aspirin and I need to brush my teeth and... these are the same clothes I was wearing yesterday. Gah. I need a shower."_

_"Need somethin' else, too," Spike murmured, rubbing against him, and Xander drew in a hard breath, scent of smoke and leather and spice, scent of **Spike** , and his body responded immediately - helplessly._

_"Oh, yeah...I... What about the Dusted Prince? What did Buffy mean, she got him **twice**?" They walked out, Xander pulling Spike as close as he could, Oz right there and Xander let his free hand linger on Oz's shoulder, not wanting to exclude him._

_"Oh, his bloody Gypsy tricks. He's not really dusted." Spike glanced back at the castle, the demon flickering out and back, ***kill it*** surging through the link._

_"Spike..." Xander protested, but the hyena was raging, wanting some sort of revenge as badly as Spike did, and he let it go. ***Don't care what he does*** The soldier was uncharacteristically silent, and Xander caught a feeling of - embarrassment? _

_***What the hell? Have to find out what THAT'S all about. But later...God...my head*** _

_They made their way home, Xander feeling as if he'd been in a boxing ring. He'd fought Dracula's thrall every minute, and it had exhausted him. Like fighting wet sheets, that clung and suffocated. He stumbled through the door and ***home home*** , letting Spike manhandle him into the shower, almost falling asleep under the spray and the gentle caress of Spike's hands, his lips. He managed to brush his teeth and then...gone, out. His last coherent thought was actually Spike's thought - ***protect family love you*** and then oblivion._

 

Now, Spike in the bed with him, cuddling him close and telling him - telling him he was safe, that everything was all right.

"So he's really gone, this time?" Xander asked again, and Spike stroked his chest, the grumbling purr vibrating through Xander's back.

"He's gone," Spike agreed, but _*mine mine*_ was still shuddering through the link and Xander turned a little, looking at Spike in the growing dawn-light that was creeping in from the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" Xander asked, and Spike's eyes flashed golden for a moment, and then back to blue, wide and anxious, the purr petering out.

"Never would have happened if...if I'd had my mark on you. If we'd..."

"You mean - the spell? To make this… permanent? You know I want to -"

"I know, pet, I know. Not blaming you. It's - it's me..." 

Xander felt cold wash over him, felt a sudden, sickening feeling in his stomach like leaden ice. _*Means it's me, it's me, doesn't want...should have guessed...*_

"Xander, love, hush. I _*want you*_ love you, don't think... Bloody hell!" Spike sat up, cross-legged, sinking his hands into his hair and scrubbing violently, as if it would clarify his thoughts. Xander sat up also, cross-legged as well, waiting.

_*Love you tell me*_

"This - spell, this claim. There's some more stuff about it that I didn't tell you - couldn't tell you."

"What stuff? Spike - " Xander reached out and cupped Spike's cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb lightly along the vampire's lower lip. Spike closed his eyes, nuzzling into Xander's touch, and they were silent for a moment, just feeling, sending reassurance along the link. "Spike, just tell me, okay?" 

Spike's eyes opened and he looked at Xander, his gaze going over and over Xander's face _*love you sorry please don't leave*_ , his need and his fear shivering through the link. Xander let his hand drop to rest on Spike's, rubbing the knuckles, feeling the fine bones in the back of Spike's hand.

"Greyson said -"

"Who's Greyson?" Xander lifted his right hand, Spike's left, to his mouth, letting his lips rest on the cool, bony knuckles of Spike's hand, letting his teeth just lightly graze them. 

Spike shivered, his eyes flickering to gold and back. "He was - this vamp me and Dru met in Casablanca. He had a claim on a woman. He told me about the spell - taught it to me. This spell...it makes us - one. You get - you get things from me. You get immortality, of a sort." Xander stared at him, his tongue licking over Spike's fingers and Spike hissed in a breath, watching him.

"Immortality - of a sort? What's that mean?"

"It means - you won't age, Xander - not after a year or so. You won't get sick, and you won't die of - of a heart attack or anything like that. But - you can still die. You can get hit by a bloody car and get your skull crushed - just like I can get staked, or burned. But you'll change, pet. My blood'll make you stronger..."

"Isn't it already? I feel - different, since we - since the link. The hyena -"

"It's stronger. Or - more _there_ , maybe. Sometimes, when we patrol, you're eyes'll catch the light - they'll shine green." Spike looked anxiously at Xander at that, and Xander felt his eyes going wide.

"Really? Wow. They _are_ more there... It's like - I can talk to them better or - or something. They were kinda - faint, before. Now - I can remember so much stuff about fighting and hunting. It's - pretty cool. I like that part." Xander grinned at Spike, and Spike raised a small smile back, but there was still unease _*fear*_ in the link.

Xander rested his cheek on their clasped hands, looking at Spike _*my love mine love you*_ , silently urging him to _not_ be afraid. "How much stronger will I get, then?"

"Some. Not much more. You're still human. Just - with extras." 

Xander had to laugh at that, and Spike's eyebrow went up. 

_*Git*_

"Tell me what else, Spike. Tell me everything."

"They'll know - your gang. The Slayer for sure - Glinda for sure. Red maybe, the Watcher maybe. The wolf. You'll feel different to them - more like me. But you'll feel that way to every demon and vamp in the world, too. They'll know not to fuck with you, 'cause that'll mean fucking with _me_."

"Well, _that's_ a definite plus, Spike. I mean - almost like a get-out-of-jail-free card. No more demon magnet! Unless - it doesn't mean _extra_ magnetic - uh - demon-attracting qualities, does it?"

Spike grinned and reached with his free hand and pushed it through Xander's hair, tugging gently. "No. It'll mean - you'll be able to walk into Willy's and get a drink and nobody'll even look sideways at you."

"Okay then - that's a plus. Supposing I actually _want_ to get a drink at Willy's. So far - two pluses: stronger, and no more random demon attacks. Oh wait, three pluses - I get to be with you forever." _That_ smile - the real one, and Xander couldn't resist kissing the softly curved lips. "Okay. Is that all?" A twist of fear again, and Xander pulled his knees up, resting his chin on them. "'Fess up, Spike." 

Spike ducked his head - looked around the room for a moment and then got up off the bed. "Half a mo, love," he said, and darted into the bathroom. He came back a moment later with a paper cup half full of water and his smokes and lighter. He put the cup on the bedside table and lit a cigarette - drew in a huge lungful of smoke and blew it out at the ceiling, watching it swirl away.

"The spell says...'one mind, one heart, one body'. That means - we'll share things. Like pain. Like pleasure. It'll be like the link, only - more. You'll know if I get hurt - if I'm drunk, or tired, or...whatever." Spike tapped ashes into the cup. They sizzled faintly, and Xander wondered if he would have heard that noise two months ago. 

"The sex'll be bloody brilliant." Spike grinned, that 'wanna fuck you _now_ ' grin, and Xander blinked.

"Oh? I see now - this is just a plot to get more sex, isn't it?"

"Got it in one, pet." They grinned at each other for a moment, the break in the tension a palpable relief. Spike took a last draw off his smoke and dropped the butt into the cup. "If -" Spike stopped, and regarded Xander for a moment, head to one side. He was cross-legged again, hands clenched on his knees. "If I die, or you do - the other won't live."

"I kinda don't think I'd care to live if you weren't there anyway, Spike." Xander said softly, and _*love you always*_

"Yeah. Me neither. But it won't be pretty, love. The one left alive'll...linger a bit. It'll hurt."

"Death always does." They were both silent after that, _*never leave me*_ from Spike, and Xander sent his love - his desire - as strongly as he could. Reassuring as best he could.

_*What if I'm not enough? What if - I've never been with anybody more then a few months - what if...he doesn't want me after...*_

"Xander…" Spike ran his fingers back through Xander's hair again - his favorite thing made even better, now that it had grown so long. "You'll always be enough, love. Don't think that."

Xander smiled weakly, and nodded. "I'll try and remember that. It's just - I hope I can do this, Spike. I hope I can - keep you happy, for so long. What if -"

"Trust me, love? You can. You will." 

Xander took a deep breath. _*Love you*_.

"Anything else? Any more?"

"One - more thing. The...biggest thing." _*Fear*_ again, a broken-nailed skittering down Xander's back, and he shivered. "When we do this - we'll share - memories."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean - you'll remember everything that I ever did. And I'll -"

"Fuck! Really? You mean - I'll know what you did - what you were like when - before you were turned?"

"Yeah, and...everything else, too. What I did with Dru and Angelus and Darla - _everything_ we did." Spike looked utterly freaked out, and it finally hit Xander, _exactly_ what he was saying.

"Oh. _Oh_. You mean - I'm gonna remember the people you killed and...what it was like to be in love with Drusilla and...all that." Spike nodded, looking down, and Xander scooted closer, enfolding him in a tight hug. After a moment he pulled away a little, making Spike meet his gaze. "Remember - how? I mean... All the time? Like...like having a movie in my head or something? Or - what?"

_*Do I **really** want to know - everything? How he killed - how many - how much he loved Drusilla? Do I want to know it all? What if - what if I start to...forget me?*_

Xander knew Spike could feel his hesitation, and he knew he was hurting the vampire. But he had to _know_.

"When we do it - the spell - we'll remember. But after a couple of days - you'll have to try hard to know stuff. Have to think about it like - like trying to remember a book you haven't read in a while or - how to do something you haven't done since you were a kid. It'll be like - you watched a big movie about my life and you can see the details when you want, but mostly it'll just be in the background." Spike had put his hands on Xander's thighs while he talked - was rubbing gently, up and back, along the outside. It felt good, but Xander put his hands over Spike's and stopped him, just holding him there, the cool hands under his tense with fear.

"Damn." Spike looked at him, startled. "You're gonna know all about - well, everything from when I was a kid and...all the really embarrassing stuff I've been hiding from you..." Xander smiled at him, and Spike rolled his eyes, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Bloody hell, love, this is serious. You -"

"I know it's serious, Spike. What - what was she like? That woman..." Spike dug his fingertips just a little into Xander's thighs, kneading gently. Thinking.

"She was - she was full of laughter, pet. She thought everything was so… _fun_. A grand adventure. She was from Poland - very poor, she said. Very strict. Religious. And then Greyson and she... He thought she was beautiful - wanted to turn her but he got...distracted, I guess."

"Distracted?" Spike raised a faint smile, but _*love you please please*_ was in the link, sad and desperate, and Xander leaned forward and kissed Spike softly.

_*Love you*_

"Yeah. Distracted by her... well, just by _her_. Just - wanted what she was instead of...what she might have been. She was - I liked her, Xander. She wasn't a vampire. She wasn't - a demon. She was _herself_. Maybe more herself then she could have been if he'd never met her. She had _time_ , you know? To do things and to - live. And someone to live _with_ her - love her - all the time." Spike looked helplessly at Xander, the pain in his eyes as clear and sharp as broken glass - as ice over rushing, treacherous water.

Xander could feel that pain - like a blade, twisting in him, and he closed his eyes and considered, for a long moment, what Spike was saying.

_*Not like I'm alone in here to begin with. And it's not like the things that the soldier or the hyena want just...happen. I control them - they're part of me but I'm still… **me**. How different would this be? I wouldn't even be getting something that talks back, just...extras*_

He opened his eyes again, meeting Spike's gaze. "Is it okay to say I'm scared, Spike? 'Cause I am. I _want_ this, so much - want _you_ so much it hurts. I'm afraid I won't be me, anymore... Will I still be - me?" Xander knew his voice cracked on that last, and Spike pulled him close and just kissed him; aching-sweet, desperate, _loving_ , and Xander let the touch and the scent and the feel of _*mine my own*_ surround him - seep into him and carry him away. He gave himself up to Spike for long, long moments, and when Spike finally pulled back _*love you please mine stay stay*_ , Xander knew what he would do.

"You'll be yourself, love - I promise you that. Just yourself. Nothing can touch your soul, love - nothing can touch _you_ \- change you - unless you want it to."

"Then - we do it, Spike. As soon as we can." Spike just stared at him for a moment and then he smiled, and the _relief_ that came from him was overwhelming. Relief, joy, _love_. Then Spike was kissing him again, laying him down on the bed, and there was an edge of passion in this kiss - the sweetness was still there, the love - but now there was _*want need*_ and it sent a rush of shivery fire over Xander's skin. To be wanted, so much…

Eventually, Spike pulled back and looked down at him.

"You really want to do this, love? It's - a lot to give up."

"Exactly what am I giving up, Spike?"

"Your friends, maybe. Your - human life."

Xander rubbed at the back of Spike's neck, where he'd held the vampire tight to him. He met Spike's gaze, serious; reinforcing everything he said through the link, sending _*want you want this love you always*_ as he spoke aloud.

"I won't miss being the punching bag of every demon in Sunnydale. And as for the gang - I won't live my life to please them, or anyone. Except you. Oz knows - he accepts it. And Tara does, and Anya. I dunno about Buffy, or Giles - they're kinda hard-wired into the demon-equals-evil thing, and I don't know how much they can change. Willow... She's been my best friend all my life. She'd be the one I'd really miss, if she - if she couldn't understand. If she _wouldn't._ But I _want_ this, Spike. I want it more then I've ever wanted anything." Xander shifted under the vampire, one leg bent a little, settling Spike's lean belly and groin into the cradle of his own - pressing him close.

"I want you - want this - and _you_ want this - that's the amazing part - that's the part that...freaks me out. Not the link or the spell - but that you want _me_ \- just...me. " Xander couldn't believe he'd said that, and now he waited for what Spike would say - nervous, even now, of hearing _*second place do for now only if we don't **tell** anyone*_.

_*How can you think that? Can't you tell...*_ The soldier was incredulous and angry, and Xander shushed him.

"Course I do, love - course I want you. You...you're..." Spike gave up talking, pressing his face into Xander's neck and just _thinking_ at him. _*Beautiful sexy brave hearthfire deamonkiller builder laughter mine mine **mine** *_

In moments they were moaning, writhing; Spike kissing Xander's mouth bloody, Xander raking his nails down Spike's back and the both of them hard, ready, desperate to take and be taken, to seal the pact in blood and sweat and semen, in gasping breaths and guttural cries, in the strain of flesh and muscle and bone. Mindless, heedless of noise or damage or anything but the all-consuming desire to be _one_ ; the same flesh, the same breath, taken and consumed and _wanted_ , in ways neither had ever been wanted or needed, before.

When Xander arrived at work two hours late, his split lip still swollen and his whole body stiff and sore, the _look_ Manny gave him was long and considering, and Xander almost told him what he was going to do. But then didn't, as Manny put his gnarled hand on Xander's shoulder, and nodded once, serious and silent. Xander figured Manny knew, already.

 

Two days later, a Friday night, and Xander and Oz and Spike sat around the kitchen table, eating the stir-fry Oz had made, uncharacteristically silent. Tonight. Tonight the claiming, and Spike felt like he needed to go out and kill something. He was beyond hyper, his senses amped up so high he thought he might lose it; the bloodlust and the _need_ for Xander making a whole-body ache that he could barely tolerate.

_*Can't believe this, can't believe he's gonna... Oh, love you, love you, this is more than I ever...ever thought I'd get, more than I... my boy, my own...*_ Spike couldn't keep his eyes off Xander - could barely refrain from touching him, taking him _*right here*_ and who cared if the wolfling got an eyeful, he just _needed_ -

_*Calm calm love you*_ from Xander, like honey, like smoke; something warm and sweet curling through him, petting him from the inside and he closed his eyes, sinking into it. _*Be mine forever, after tonight. Mine and...never be alone, never be left behind, never... Oh, love you love you*_

The same thing - a muddle of nerves and love and reassurance - was coming from Xander, and Spike finally opened his eyes and got a smoke, staring sightlessly out into the darkness through the open kitchen door, taking deep breaths of the salt-laden air, scenting the _*warm salt sweet*_ of Xander and the _*earth dark pine*_ of Oz, the peppers and cooked rice and beef, the candle wax and the laundry soap and the blood from some small cut Xander had got at work, the swirl of spicy-green smells from the bag of herbs the wolfling had brought from the Magic Box - herbs for….

_*Claiming, I'm claiming him tonight, oh gods...*_ Abruptly Spike stood up and paced outside, standing on the porch and watching the faint glimmer of the sea, listening to the booming of the surf and the insects in the grass and the dry rustling of the leaves of the eucalyptus. The medicinal scent of that tree overwhelmed even the cigarette smoke and Spike breathed and breathed, trying to calm himself. The demon was utterly silent - frighteningly so. It _wanted_ , so badly, and now Spike felt as if it were crouched somewhere down in him, waiting to pounce.

_*Don't hurt him, can't hurt him, you've got to make sure - *_

_*Course we won't hurt him - it'll be... it'll be fine. You'll see.*_

_*But when he...remembers...*_

Spike shuddered all over, putting his hands on the rail and bowing his head, breathing. _*Know all our secrets, that's all...know everything and... we'll know him - **have** him, here, inside, forever. Never be alone, never be left, never...*_

_*He could still leave, could still...*_

_* **No** , he won't, he won't...loves us, wants this...*_

_* **Mine** *_ the demon snarled, surfacing for one moment and then away again, and Spike stalked back inside and opened a cabinet - pulled out his bottle of whiskey and took a long, long drink. The fiery liquor burned his throat - sent warmth coiling out from his belly, and Xander got up from the table and came and leaned into him, body to body, tucking his head down into Spike's neck and nibbling at his throat a little, where the mark would be.

"You alright?"

Spike set the bottle aside and put his arms around Xander, hugging him close. "I'm good, pet. We should - get started. Gotta make the draught..."

"Yeah. Okay. Let's...get this cleaned up so we can..." Absently, Xander stepped away and started clearing dishes, and Oz got up and silently joined him. They'd asked Oz to stay, just in case. With magic, nothing was ever sure, and they wanted him there if they needed help. And to keep any unexpected guests away. Spike could smell sweat and nerves from the wolfling - he was as on edge as they were. 

As the others cleared away the mess from dinner, Spike got the herbs out and began to prepare them, crushing them to near powder with a mortar and pestle, carefully sifting in the different components. It was a spell so simple as to be laughable. Greyson had passed it on to him with a small smile, knowing that one of Spike's line - Aurelius - would have no trouble with such a simple charm.

_*Simple is sometimes strongest.*_ Greyson had said, and Spike agreed. It didn't make him any less nervous, but at least it was an easy thing to do - nothing much to muck up. Drink the potion, love his boy, take his blood, say the words. That was all. He glanced up at Xander, who was standing with a dishtowel in one hand and a glass dangling from the other, staring at nothing. Oz gently relieved him of both, and set them on the counter.

"Xander, why don't you go make sure everything's set up in the bedroom, okay? I can finish this." Xander blinked - looked at Oz - blinked again and then nodded, stumbling away to the bedroom. 

Spike felt the _*love afraid want love*_ through the link and crushed more herbs, his hands shaking.

_*Fuck, gotta calm down. This is gonna be fine, gonna be - *_ A hand on his shoulder stilled him, and he looked up into Oz's face; calm green eyes and small smile, waft of dish soap and wolf-smell and leather from the half-dozen braided bracelets around his wrist.

"You all right?"

"Bloody hell, wolf, I'm..." Spike put his head down on his wrist, shivering, and Oz's hand moved, stroking his shoulder and back, gently kneading the tension-wracked muscles.

"Gonna be fine, Spike. Gonna be fine. I see you two - makes me... envious. You love each other so much, and...this is going to be amazing..." Oz's voice was soft, his tone one of utter calm, and Spike lifted his head and looked at the werewolf - really _looked._

_*Oh fuck. This is - this is hurting him. This is...gotta fix this, soon as Xan and me are...gotta fix this.*_ "Thanks, pet. That - means a lot to me - to us." Spike smiled at him - his _real_ smile, as Xander would say - and Oz blinked and ducked his head and went back to the sink, wiping an already spotless counter, something else coming off him now; a scent of sadness and arousal that made Spike catch his breath.

_*We'll take care of you, wolfling. You'll see.*_ Spike carefully dusted his hands and then went to the 'fridge, lifting down the small copper pot that he was to make the draught in. It was filled with sea-water, and Spike set it on the stove, turning on the burner. _*The sun's metal and the mother's blood, the living green that springs from the dust of the dead. Roiled in air, drunk in darkness, spoken as one. Give each of the seed, of the blood, of the vow, and it is done. Hyt k'ku, hyt v'lyl, hyt hydu - one heart, one mind, one body*_

 

Lying in the darkness, the faint taste of the potion in his mouth - earthy, bitter, green and salt. Xander beneath him, around him, the light of the single candle showing eyes as wide and as dark as the sea, mouth open on a breathless moan, _*love love love*_ pounding through the link as steady as the mortal's heartbeat - as vital. Slowly, with infinite care, they let lips, teeth, tongues rest on the other. Spike's mouth was flooded with Xander's taste - sweet and salt and _*sunlight, cool water, clean wood*_

The demon came forward, oddly subdued - so focused that Xander was the only light in a tunnel of black. Spike moved, writhed, thrust, and felt his orgasm from very far away - felt it as a wave rolling in; smooth, heavy and unstoppable. Beneath him, Xander arched up, gasping, and as their climax took them they took each other, tooth meeting tooth through sweat-slicked flesh and flesh of the living dead. Spike sucked the heady nectar of Xander's blood into his mouth, feeling hot semen spattering his stomach and chest, feeling his own body pouring it out, a roaring in his ears. Then they were whispering, saying the words;  
 _Hyt k'ku, hyt v'lyl, hyt hydu._

And....

White light. A confusion of colors and things. A red-haired girl crying, a broken crayon...sight and sound and smell and taste cascaded through him - fast and then faster, and Spike threw his head back and roared, aware of Xander doing the same, aware of pain as the images and the sounds and the _emotions_ built stronger and higher and faster - too fast to comprehend, too loud to hear, too bright to see.

Spike jerked up and away, falling half off the bed, his hands knotted in his hair in an agony of sensation. Dimly, the scent of the wolfling came to him - a voice - but the life-time that was flooding through him was too much, too fast, and he cried out one more time and fell into it, into a stutter of day and night, hate and love, joy and pain, until it wound into darkness and he knew nothing else.

 

When Xander woke, it was to a cool cloth on his forehead and the dim, aqueous light of mid-day coming greenly in through the curtains. The face above him slowly resolved into Oz, and Xander reached a shaking hand up and touched it - touched Oz's cheek before his arm fell limply back to the bed.

"Hey - Xander." Oz smiled at him - glanced towards the kitchen and then back. After a moment Spike was there, slipping into the bed from the other side, sharp scent of cigarette smoke and whiskey.

"Sspike," Xander whispered, and his throat felt ragged and full of sand.

"Here I am, love. C'mon." Spike eased his arm under Xander's shoulders and lifted him, holding Xander against his chest. Oz had a cup, water and a straw, and Xander drank gratefully. Oz set the cup down and touched his hand, then stood up and went away into the kitchen, leaving them alone.

Xander closed his eyes, leaning back on Spike gratefully, lacing their fingers together and sighing in utter contentment. A random thought surfaced, and Xander frowned a little. "Spike, there's something - with Oz... it's worse than it was?"

"Yeah. He's... We'll see to it, don't fret." A moment's silence, and Spike hugged Xander a little closer. "So, can I go and kill your father, love?" Spike asked, and Xander chuckled weakly, squeezing the fingers in his.

"Sure. An' then, I'll go kill Angel, 'kay?"

"Whatever you want, love." Spike kissed his cheek - temple - and then settled back against the headboard, pulling Xander close.

"What - when is it?"

"Next day. We did the spell last night. I've been awake about... four hours. Feel alright, love?"

"Mmmm. My head hurts a bit - my throat. What - what happened? Did something - did we do it right?"

"Worked a treat, love. Can't you feel it?" 

Spike kissed his throat - where the mark was - and suddenly something flared up inside. Xander gasped. It was the link, but changed. It was - more. Deeper. He could feel the _emotions_ , the _*love you love you*_ that he was used to, but there was something else, too. It was as if he were inside Spike's mind, and for a moment he could hear Oz's heartbeat in the next room, hear the radio next door and, very faintly, a siren somewhere in downtown Sunnydale. The scents of the room flooded into him - he could feel the threads of the sheet and he could, somehow, feel the coolness of Spike's body against his back and his own heat flooding back towards _*himself*_ Spike at the same time.

It was something like the Super Slayer spell had been, only infinitely more intimate, and he wallowed in the emotions that Spike was directing towards him, and brushed tentatively over the other things - how Spike felt about Oz, Giles - Buffy. Echoes of the past came to him as well; a brief flash of Drusilla, spinning and spinning, a veil of sheer silk floating around her and how love had surged up in _*him*_ Spike, love and desire. 

Himself, in their bed, telling Spike _*I love you*_ and the joy that had leapt up, joy and awe and _*love love*_. He shivered, overwhelmed, and the sensations retreated, leaving only the link as it had been, and the steady assurances Spike was sending him.

"God - Spike. That's... Love you. I - I can't even..."

"Shush, love, it's all right. Don't need to talk. I know. Love you _*always always mine*_

_*Yours*_


	17. Telling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we add a new pairing - Spike/Xander/Oz. It doesn't remain the dominant pairing, but it underlies the rest of the work.

A week since the claim, and the memories had finally subsided - leveled, and lost their subtle but substantial grip. The first day or so it was all Xander could do to get up - walk around. Every thing, every touch, every sound, seem to trigger something, and he'd stand for long, long minutes just lost in memory.

_"Let's rent a boat, William. A row across the lake would be lovely."_

_"Of course, Mother." People galloping past on horses, carriages with well-dressed women sitting inside, nod of head and bow, bow... Walking slow because Mother is ill and mustn't overdo. Two little boys in sailor suits tossing bread crumbs to the ducks and the boatman bobbing and touching his cap, undoing the painter and giving the little rowboat a shove. Mother smiling, so pale, her parasol casting a slant of shadow across her face and throat and the Row crowded with people and horses, the quiet ruffling of the lake-water a balm to frayed nerves…._

And now Xander knows that Spike - William - didn't like horses. Or, rather, _loved_ them, for their beauty and romantic Arthurian allure but had never ridden all that well and had never been a part of the 'horsy' set. Had, in fact, had a faint contempt for something so...physical. And that horses had scared him, a little. Then Xander would blink - swallow - look up and see Oz watching him, or feel Spike's fingers in his hair and gone again, another memory rising up like bubbles in a pool.

_"You've been a naughty, naughty boy, Spike - Miss Edith says you must be punished." Curve of red lips, tumble of black hair, sharp nails scoring his chest and the rope biting into his wrists. Rope he can snap in a moment but they both like this game so he doesn't, only arches up to her touch, her golden eyes flickering to brown and back again, long pale thighs clasping his, glitter of the knife as it twitches restlessly across his chest, belly…._

Xander gasps awake from that one, feeling the surge of arousal and he's on the floor by the kitchen door, Oz touching his shoulder, Spike leaning against the wall and just as lost as he is, reliving some part of Xander's life that makes him snarl when he comes back from it.

It's overwhelming, exhilarating - terrifying. Xander lets Oz pull him to his feet and he sways there a moment, not letting Oz's hand go, because another memory surfaces. This kitchen, this table, Oz saying it will be alright and Spike seeing hurt, seeing loss... Vowing to fix it and Xander looks at Oz and smiles. _*Yeah, fix it. Just let me... just let me get my bearings, let me get all this...settled.*_

The hyena is bewildered by the rush of remembrance so foreign and so overwhelming and has retreated to a grumbling sulk somewhere down below conscious thought. The soldier is vacillating between horror at losing control so often and so completely and glee at a centuries' worth of mayhem he can plunder for skills and techniques. 

Xander sits at the table, drinking a soda, and... .

"Thee canna do this, boy, it's too much!" Angelus, furious. Fist twisted tight in Spike's shirt, the threads popping as he yanks and tries to jerk Spike down to his knees. Angry over careless mayhem, gleeful chaos. And of course Spike fights back - **always** fights back, even when he knows he's going to lose - fist driving into that sneering mouth, knee coming up to sink into a vulnerable groin, the grin stretching his mouth as both hits connect and blood is trailing over Angelus' mouth, now. Angelus wheezes and doubles up and drives his head forward, and they are stumbling back, crashing into a spindly-legged table and Darla is looking on, a bored expression on her face, a glass of wine in her hand. Drusilla is on the bed, bouncing excitedly, her eyes gleaming and Spike winks at her and then yelps as Angelus crushes down on top of him, sharp elbow in the belly, fangs snapping at his throat, one hand twined in his hair and the other trying to break his ribs with hard, rabbity punches. Growl, heave, roll, and Spike is on top, rapping that damn great Irish head into the hearthstones with a satisfying crack and then Darla is there, wine-bottle swinging….

Xander groans and puts his head on the table and Spike is laughing, mumbling something. Xander looks up and catches Oz's eye - the werewolf is looking a bit spooked.

"It's a madhouse, a _madhouse!_ " Xander exclaims, his best Charlton Heston, and Oz grins at him, some of the tension flowing away.

"When do you think this'll... settle down?" Oz asks.

"I think..." And _that_ memory comes to him - a slim, pale man _*vampire*_ in a grey suit, ashy-brown hair blowing in the ever-present breeze from the sea, grey eyes full of laughter and _life_. A woman beside him; auburn hair, plump, pale blue eyes and the same laughing look to her. Talking about the claim, talking about….

"A couple days, maybe? Not too long. They'll fade."

Spike leans on the chair behind Xander and combs his fingers through Xander's hair. "Right, wolfling. Give it a few days and we'll be right as rain. Greyson said... he could remember if he _wanted_ to. " Oz nods, then, and sighs as Xander and Spike both zone out again, and when Xander surfaces it's dark outside. Oz is watching something on TV about the birth of Blues music in the south and Spike is smoking and looking angry.

"What is it, love?"

"Can't believe they _left_ you there - fuckin' bastards - you were _six_ , you were so scared..." 

And Xander knows what Spike is remembering. Himself getting his tonsils out and his parents dumping him in the hospital and gone, stuff to do, and he had lay in the bed and shivered and cried. Not knowing _why_ he was there, not knowing what would happen next, too scared to get out of the bed and not knowing how to call anyone and he'd finally wet the bed and then cried even harder, absolute horror because now, _now_.... Xander shook that off, pushed his head back into Spike's caressing fingers. _*love you*_ warm and sweet.

_"I can tell the wind is risin', the leaves tremblin' on the tree…_  
_Tremblin' on the tree…_  
_I can tell the wind is risin', leaves tremblin' on the tree…_  
_All I need is my little sweet woman…."_

A man's reedy voice from the TV, the recording scratchy and a little distorted, the guitar stark and unaccompanied. Somehow, it makes Xander shiver.

"Yeah, well... I got ice cream and toys from all the nurses when they figured it out. And Wills brought me a coloring book the next day." Spike snorts, crushing out his cigarette, and Xander leans over and kisses him, soft and slow.

"Come make it all better, love..." he whispers, and somehow the memories are easier to take when they're lying in the bed together, close as they can possibly get; Spike beneath him and around him, murmur of his name, cool mouth against his and _*want need*_ and Spike's blood like nectar, the claim mark a raised glyph under his tongue. Then the memories wash in and out without so much...baggage. Xander sighs in bliss and relief, cool skin against his and the link wide open and… _fire in the grate, Drusilla writing in her journal, letting her hair be brushed and brushed to a silken cowl, warm and safe and loved, loved…._

 

Monday - ten days gone, and they'd managed to avoid Buffy, Giles - everyone, really. Even gotten in a couple of their own kind of patrols; the demon and the wolf and the hyena running through the night, being pack, being family, and it's all part of the _fix_ that Spike and Xander know Oz needs. But not all of it. And Xander has tried out a few of those memories - tried a move, here and there, from Spike's street-brawling days and after the second or third try it had been like he'd known them all along. The soldier was ecstatic. And a new thing - images, through the link. Old ones - memories - but new ones, too - what Spike was seeing, or Xander. What either of them were thinking. Spike amused himself by sending little flashes of Xander and himself fucking - just glimpses of thigh and arched back, rib or curve of throat or sweep of buttock. Enough to make Xander hard for hours. He got his revenge by sending images of his co-workers, naked. Beer-bellies aplenty, and Spike just laughed at him when he came home - laughed and tackled him to the bed, as ready as Xander was.

The memories had finally sunk under, but Xander still woke shuddering from nightmares. Nightmares only to _him_ \- memories of hunts and fights and Spike learning what sort of damage a railroad spike could do to a human body. Drusilla having tea-parties with blood in the teapot and half-dead little girls listless at her party table. Angelus...showing Spike how much more powerful he is then a five-year fledge and Spike seething, in agony. Too beaten to even move, too lost in Drusilla to run away, too desperate to be _part of_ to abandon his only family. And other things - the Initiative among them, and Xander really wants to _hurt_ Riley now. Those memories were fading, as well - were already losing their hard-edged brilliance and becoming nothing more than vague scenes, scatter-shot across his night-time brain. For that, Xander was thankful. His own life had caused Spike more anger then anything, and Xander had wondered if he would get a call sometime. The police, telling him his dad was dead. But Spike overheard that thought one night, curled tight to him, and whispered in his ear - in his head.

_*Yours to do, or not, as you like. Your choice, your revenge, love...your family*_

Tonight they were all three sprawled on the sofa-bed, watching the ' _Alien_ ' oeuvre and eating take-out from the Ethiopian place. Spike was on his back, propped up with a plate on his stomach. With one hand he deftly scooped up eggs and lamb and vegetables with a piece of _injera_ bread, with the other he idly rubbed Oz's ankle-bone. Xander grinned at that, then groaned and heaved himself up from his prone position when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

" _Hello, Xander? It's - it's Giles. I need to speak to you - can you come over here tonight?_ " Xander felt an unexpected and unwelcome clutch of anxiety, and immediately Spike twisted around, looking at him. "Something up, Giles? Something wrong?"

" _No - no. Nothing is...wrong, precisely, but I've never gotten your side of the spell we did, the...ah...Super Slayer spell, and I really need your...experience to put into my journal._ " Giles' voice sounded odd, and Xander frowned at that. Oz was watching him now, too, and Xander wondered if he'd ever get used to them being able to hear everything that was said on the phone.

"We're in the middle of dinner here, Giles, when - "

" _Oh, say in an hour? And Xander, please tell Spike that Buffy wants to meet him at the Bronze. She wants to talk to him about...about the Slayers he killed._ "

" _What?_ " A silence, and a sigh from Giles, and Spike was on his feet now, plate set aside and eyes going gold for a moment.

" _There was... there was an incident, last night. On patrol. Buffy...got hurt, and she wants to know - she wants to know how Spike killed the Slayers._ "

"Is she okay?"

" _Oh yes, yes, she's fine, a minor wound, really, but in light of her new...dedication to training and...learning, Buffy feels that... She needs to know - how it happened._ "

Xander frowned again, not happy at all. But he couldn't put Giles off anymore, even if he wanted to. And something was making him _not_ want to. He wanted to tell them - the whole gang. He was tired of sneaking and lying. He just wasn't sure if he wanted to _yet_. "Okay Giles, I'll tell him. See you in a while." Xander hung up and sighed, and looked up at Spike and Oz. 

Spike looked ready to do...something. Fight, or yell, or punch something. Oz looked worried. Xander went over to Spike, slipping an arm around his waist and _*calm love you*_. "Guess I'm seein' Giles tonight. And you're seein' Buffy. "

"Do you think - _what_ do you think?" Oz asked, stabbing idly at some cooked egg, and Xander shrugged.

"I - don't really know. He says - well, you heard what he says, but I don't know if that's _all_ he wants. He sounded...strange. Maybe 'cause of Buffy, maybe not."

Spike ran his hand up and down Xander's side, giving a little squeeze, then sat back down on the bed, picking up his plate again. "We'll know when we get there, love. Nothing to worry about."

His even tone was belied by the tremor of anxiety that ran through the link, and Xander sent back _*safe love you*_. "Yeah." Xander sank down as well, and Oz slowly ate a forkful of egg.

"You know, I think I'll go to the Bronze tonight. See what's up with the band that's there - maybe play a little pool. Mind if I tag along, Spike?"

Spike grinned over at Oz. "What, are you sayin' you don't trust the Slayer, wolf? Think she'll need double-teaming?" Oz laughed, and bounced a little on the bed, wolf eyes and fangs and claws for a moment, then himself again.

"Nah. But you're supposed to be all unable to fight back, you know? I just don't want her getting...overzealous."

"Oooh." Xander raised his eyebrows in mock amazement. "Big two-dollar word from the wolf. I gotta get me some of those. But first, the rest of my dinner." 

 

Xander dropped Spike and Oz off at the Bronze, and couldn't repress a shiver of unease as he watched them walk inside.

 _*Love you safe*_ ,came from Spike as the door closed, and Xander sent it back hard, then drove on to Giles' apartment. The complex was quiet, and he sat for a little bit in his truck, thinking. Feeling Spike faintly through the link; arrogance and amusement and something like nostalgia. Brief image of Buffy, looking angry, shoving a plate of chicken wings across the table. He wondered what they were saying. Sighing, he got out of the truck and walked down - knocked gently on the door. After a moment Giles opened it, and wordlessly ushered him inside. Papers were strewn over the table - books and several half-empty cups of tea precariously piled among them - and Xander eyed the mess with suspicion. 

"Been doing some heavy research?"

"Something like that. Please - sit down." Xander did, perching on a stool by the breakfast bar, and Giles leaned on the edge of the table, glasses off and thumb rubbing over his forehead as if he had a headache.

"Xander...when we did the spell... You could feel Willow and myself, could you not?"

"Yeah - I could. It was like - Willow was _power_ , and you were..." Xander stopped and looked at Giles, and Giles looked slightly uneasy. "You were - _demonkiller_. And not - like Buffy is, you know? It was...darker."

"Ah. Yes, well, in my younger days I committed my share of rebellious acts, and I'm afraid some of those acts involved...darker magics then I currently...employ."

"You and Ethan Rayne?"

Giles shot Xander a hard look and then sighed. "Yes, Ethan and I. We were - friends once. A long time ago. Did you feel - anything else?"

"From you? I felt - _teacher_. And _fighter_ , and… _father_." Xander fiddled with a loose button on his work-shirt - glanced up to see Giles looking at him with a rather startled expression, one that melted into a small, pleased smile.

"Well, I, uh, suppose that, in my time here, I've certainly assumed many of the...well, _responsibilities_ one might associate with a father, especially towards Buffy..."

"Yeah. You kind of have. For all of us, really. I mean - Willow's parents are gone a _lot_ , and mine... They're just _gone_ , you know?" Xander couldn't help but smile back at Giles, and the tension in the air seemed to lessen a bit. He could sense amusement from Spike again, and the sort of jumpy energy that personified Spike in _on_ mode. Flicker of something - pool cue and table and Buffy's startled face, brief glimpse of Oz, and he relaxed more, knowing the vampire was all right.

"Yes, well... Back to the...point of your visit. You could feel Buffy as well, I assume?"

"Oh, yeah." Xander shivered a little, remembering. "Buffy was.... _blood and bones_. And _eternal_ , and... _lonely_." Giles was staring at him now, and Xander started feeling uncomfortable again.

"Really, Xander, I'm quite amazed. You seem to be able to...to _express_ how it felt much better then any of the rest of us. I wonder, is that because of the soldier, or the hyena?" Giles voice was so soft - so even, that it took Xander a moment for him to really register what he'd said. And then he stared in amazement at the older man.

"Wh-what?" Giles was watching him closely, _being_ The Watcher, his pose one of relaxed indifference. _*Ready to pounce*_ , Xander thought, and unconsciously straightened on the stool.

"I could feel - both of those things - those entities. The hyena seemed....eager? Excited? And the soldier was very... Well, Buffy said it made her feel brave."

"Yeah, he did. Giles - "

"Why didn't you _tell_ me Xander? How long has this - possession - been going on?"

"I'm not _possessed_ , Giles. They've...they've been there since they _happened_. The hyena never left, I just got more...control over it. And the soldier the same way - when the spell was broken and we all went back to normal, he just...stayed. It's not... They don't _hurt_ me, or anything - I mean, the soldier helped with Angelus, remember? And the hyena helps, too - they both do. I can fight better because of them. They don't - _control_ me, or anything. They're like...Jiminy Cricket, only - you know - with the schematics for a land-mine and a craving for a rare steak from time to time."

Giles looked at him, frowning, and then stood up and paced closer, his eyes dark and his arms at his sides, tense. "And how does Spike fit into all this?"

Xander felt a wave of icy dread pass over him, followed rather swiftly by sickly relief, and he swallowed, watching Giles.

"I felt him as well, Xander. Buffy and Willow both seemed to think it was - part of the other two. They seemed to have a much more...muddled recollection of what happened. But I remember distinctly that he was _there_ , in you, with the rest. With us, for just a moment. I've had - suspicions - since he moved in with you, and Angel - "

"Angel? What's deadboy got to do with this?"

"When he was here last, he came by, on his way out of town. He said that I should keep an eye on Spike. And I have been, as best I could. It's been difficult, considering how little you two - three, including Oz - are around. And then we did that spell, Xander, and _Spike_ is in your head. How is that possible?" 

Giles was very close, now, and his eyes had a hard gleam that Xander associated with the _*darkman*_ Ripper part of the Watcher's past. The hyena growled a warning and the soldier dredged up memories - two, then three, a rapid stutter of images - Spike fighting, particular moves. Xander shook his head, dismissing them, telling the soldier in no uncertain terms to stand down. "Giles... This is gonna take a while."

 

Xander finally stopped talking and Giles simply stared at him, utterly motionless. Xander looked at him for a moment then got up and went into the kitchen, getting a glass of water and gulping it down. His stomach was in knots, and he was thankful to be out from under the scrutiny of the older man, if only temporarily. After a moment Giles followed him into the kitchen and began making tea, moving in a jerky fashion that showed how far away his thoughts were. Xander leaned in the doorway, watching him.

"You say - you say you can see... Xander, demons don't have souls - you know they don't."

"But they do, Giles. You said so yourself. Remember the demon trapped in the book, the one Willow scanned? You said its soul was trapped for all eternity. I can see them, Giles. They really are there. My _boss_ is a demon. Hell, half of Sunnydale employs demons! Some are just really good at hiding. But I can see them if I want to, Giles - I can see Willow's soul, and Buffy's... I can see yours. And I can see _Spike's_ , Giles. _Both_ of them. It's...it's the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

"Xander, I... This is all so..."

"I know it's hard to believe, Giles. But it's true. Don't you have - isn't there something you could do - some spell or...something so you could see them, too?" Giles was shaking his head and Xander started to get angry. "I'm going to accept that you aren't just going to _believe_ me - I mean, I'm not Willow with the magic powers and the nerd powers and I'm not a thousand-year-old ex-demon, and I'm not Tara who can see _auras_ , and I'm sure not Buffy, so yeah, I can see where you'd think I was...lying, or under some damn _spell-_ " Xander realized he was shouting, way too close to Giles in the narrow kitchen and he choked it off, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down.

_*Knew he'd be like this! Didn't we tell you? He doesn't trust us, Harris, he won't believe until he can cut Spike's soul out and examine it under a microscope*_

_* **Ours**. Keep it away!*_

The hyena was snarling, and Xander laughed shortly, rubbing his temples. Giles was standing in front of the stove, arms crossed, frowning, his stance defensive and maybe a little spooked.

 _*Okay, God, got to calm down, Spike'll think...fuck, I don't **know** what Spike'll think, but it won't be good*_ He reached for Spike through the link but got nothing - the vampire had shut it down. The knots in his belly tightened. _*So not good - damnit*_

"You know, this won't exactly help my case here, but the soldier thinks you don't trust me. And the hyena? It wants to hurt you."

Giles stiffened at that, and shot him a wary look. "Do _you_ want to hurt me, Xander?"

"Oh for God's sake, Giles! Of course I don't! You know, Spike and Oz neither _one_ had a problem with this - they believed me right off. Why don't you?"

"It's not a matter of _belief_ , Xander, it's - " Giles was cut off by a sudden _thump_ as his front door flew open and banged sharply into the wall behind it. And Spike was there, furious, blocking the link but half into game-face and growling deep in his chest. Behind him Oz staggered in, panting, looking as if he'd run a marathon.

"Spike! What in _hell_ \- " from Giles, full-on Ripper in an instant.

"Hey, you guys okay? What's -"

"Sorry, Xander, I - " Oz reeled a little, gasping, and Spike grabbed his arm and pushed him onto a stool, glaring at Giles. 

The link crashed open suddenly and Xander felt _*rage fear **mine** *_ and he moved hastily, catching at Spike as the vampire rounded the corner of the kitchen doorway, going straight for Giles who was trapped at the back of the minimal kitchen space. Spike snarled, full demon, and Xander yanked his arm _hard_ , making him stop, sending _*calm calm **calm** *_

"It's all right, Spike - I'm okay. I should have - I just got pissed off. It's okay. Giles didn't do anything." Spike stared at him, panting a little, then whipped his head around as Giles made some aborted movement. Giles froze. Xander did, and Oz was dark-eyed, tense, on the verge of wolfing out.

"Watcherr," Spike growled, and Xander shook Spike a little, making him look back, making Spike focus on _*love love yours calm now yours calm*_

"Spike, it's _okay_ , you need to calm down. Spike?" 

Spike stared at him another long moment. Then finally he blinked, taking a deep breath. The demon subsided and Spikes human face was there, scowling. He leaned forward and kissed Xander, hard and possessive, his hands coming up to cradle Xander's face, fingers in Xander's hair and _*love you love you*_.

Xander kissed back just as desperately, pulling the shivering body close to him, hands under the duster and digging into Spike's back. Slowly, they pulled away from each other, and Xander saw that Giles had buried his face in his hands, glasses dangling from his fingers.

"You felt - it just kept gettin' worse. And then, the last couple of blocks..." Spike made a vague gesture with his hand. "I got worried, is all. You, Watcher! Don't piss my boy off, right?"

"Don't, Spike." Xander pulled Spike a little further away from Giles, tightening his grip around Spike's waist. "I was just... I told Giles about Jack, and what he gave me and what I can see and...he doesn't believe me."

"He'll just have to get over it, love. What brought all this on, anyway?" Spike pushed a staying lock of hair of Xander's forehead - gently ran his fingers back through the dark strands. 

"When we did that spell - Super Slayer. He could feel the hyena and the soldier. And you, too."

"Huh. So he's all in a panic, hey?" Spike broke away from Xander's embrace and walked around to the front door, shutting it with a brusque push. Then he came back to Oz and rubbed his hand gently over the werewolf's back and sweat-damp t-shirt. "Sorry 'bout runnin' you into the ground, mate."

"S'okay, Spike. It's good for me." Oz grinned, still panting, and Spike grinned back.

Giles slammed a can of soda down onto the breakfast bar next to Oz. "I'm _so_ glad you're all friends again, but Xander we are _not_ finished here. And Spike - I don't know what you've done -"

"Nothing I wasn't _asked_ to do, Watcher. Chip, remember? You've got a bloody nerve - "

"Stop - stop! Giles, we're together, you're just going to have to...deal with it. This last week we…we made it permanent. It's called a claim, and it's... It's done, Giles. "

"Claim. _Claim_? Really, Xander, have you - have you lost your _mind_?" Giles was shaking with the intensity of his emotions, his expression one of horror and sadness and fury. "Have you forgotten that Spike has, on _numerous_ occasions, tried to _kill_ all of us? Has nearly _succeeded_? He is not - "

"Giles - you don't understand. This claim - I know what he's thinking, Giles. I can _hear_ him, I can _feel_ him." Xander advanced further into the kitchen, getting into Giles' face and making him flinch away. "And he can do the same with me. We know - more then anyone around us - _exactly_ how the other feels. _Exactly_. I've never been this loved, Giles. Never. I've never been... accepted like this, _wanted_ like this. He _can't lie to me_ , Giles. And I can't lie to him. Do you get it?" Xander was shouting again, Giles was looking more Ripper by the moment, and Oz's eyes had gone black, his shoulders tense. Spike just stood there, watching, and what was coming from him was rage and hate, bitterness and...sorrow. Xander caught his breath - looked over at him.

"What is it, love?" he asked, softly, and Spike shook his head - patted at the duster and pulled out cigarettes and lighter.

"I'm just sorry, pet. Didn't want trouble for you. Didn't want you to be unhappy."

"Not your fault, Spike. Not at all." _*love you mine always*_ Spike smiled at him, flicking open the Zippo and lighting up.

"Spike, damnit, how many times - "

"Piss off, Watcher." Spike sat heavily on the table's edge and smoked, staring at the floor. Giles pushed past Xander, out of the kitchen and straight for the vampire, to snatch away the cigarette or to grab Spike up from his perch - something. But before he got there Oz was between them, head lowered and his stance screaming 'back off'. Spike had reverted to the demon, and was growling very low and soft. Xander moved hastily to Spike's side and Giles froze again, staring at Oz - at Xander - and took a careful step back.

"Xander, I think that - what you've done is very dangerous, and very foolish."

"And I think you're wrong, Giles. What Jack did - what he gave me, means I can see what people really are. I can see _you_ , Giles. I can see what you did as Ripper - I can _feel_ it. The taint of the demons you summoned, the love you had for Ethan - the things the two of you did... It's all _there_ , Giles."

Giles stared at him, and his hands were shaking as they took off the glasses, methodically polished, replaced them. Giles sank slowly down onto a stool, and Xander leaned next to Spike, pressing into him, needing the contact. Spike slipped his arm around Xander's waist and leaned his head Xander's shoulder, and Xander sighed. Oz relaxed, slipping back, and Spike touched his hand in passing, shooting him a grateful look.

"I don't know what to tell you, Giles. I don't know how to convince you." Xander spoke softly, defeat in his voice.

"I do." Spike sat up again, finishing his cigarette. He stood up and flicked the butt into the kitchen, sending it neatly into the sink. _*love you mine*_ "You want to know about the Sidhe - about Jack? There are books to read - people to talk to. That's the easy part. You want to know about the bloody claim? Call Angel. Ask him. Bloody poofter knows all about them. And I'm sure you'll believe _him_ , won't you, Watcher? Believe the broody bastard when he tells you that we're _linked_ now - blood to blood."

Spike took one step, then another, until he was crowding Giles back on the stool and Giles had gone still again, obviously forgetting Spike's supposed helpless state in the primal fear of being prey. Spike's voice was low and rough and _soft_ , and it raised the hairs on Xander's neck. "Nothin' to separate us but death, Watcher - and even that for only a little while. A very nasty, miserable little while. Don't be gettin' any ideas. My pain is his pain, my pleasure is his pleasure, and my death is his death. And the same goes for me, Watcher. Linked. You call Angel, ask him all the questions you want. He'll tell you."

 

"Well, that didn't go very well," Xander sighed, wearily climbing the steps up out of Giles' courtyard. The three of them walked slowly across the parking lot to Xander's truck; Spike smoking, Oz fiddling with the soda he'd taken with him, Xander restlessly tossing and catching his keys. The hyena was so hyped that Xander felt like screaming, and Oz suddenly made a low, growly noise.

"I really wanna hunt something down and kick its head in," he muttered, and Spike grabbed him in a fierce, one-armed embrace.

"That's the ticket, wolfling! A spot a' the old ultra-violence and we'll all feel better." Oz nodded in agreement, and Xander slipped his arm under the duster, around Spike's waist.

"So what happened with Buffy?"

Spike snorted, getting his other arm around Xander and steering them all to a stop against the hood of Xander's truck. "She got herself staked by some fledge. Got her all in a tizzy, so she wanted some kind of blow-by-blow explanation of how I done for those two Slayers. Couldn't exactly do a reenactment for the silly bint, so we...talked about it. Got me some free beer and wings, at least. An' I told her what she didn't want to hear."

"What's that?" Xander asked. Spike turned to look at him, eyes blue and clear as a noon sky, utterly calm, utterly feral, and Xander shivered just a bit.

"Slayers spend all their time dealing out death - rolling in it, pursuing it, dodging it. Eventually - they all wanna know - what it's like. They all got a death-wish, and _I_ got to be their sodding fairy vampire. At least I did for those two." Spike tipped his head back, looking at the sky, and Xander and Oz shared a look across him.

"Let's go fuck something up, guys, " Xander said finally, pushing away from the truck and going to unlock the doors. As Oz slid in behind Spike, Xander looked over at him, smiling just a little. "Hey, Oz - thanks for - for being on our side, back there. Thanks for standing up for us. I - _we_ \- really appreciate it."

"It's okay," Oz murmured, fiddling with the bracelets around his wrist. He glanced down - back up - and his eyes sparked green in the dimness. "We're pack. I couldn't _not_ , you know?"

"Yeah. Pack." Xander grinned, and the hyena let loose a low, chuckling sound, hair-raising in the confined space of the cab. Spike laughed.

"You're gettin' as freaky as the two of us, love. Have you smoking and swearing and fornicating, next." 

Xander laughed aloud, starting the truck, and the ride to the cemetery was full of sharp-edged mirth as their combined nerves and blood-lust wound higher and higher. They went to Spike's old cemetery and started hunting, Oz half wolf and Spike full demon, and Xander knew his eyes were the hyena's eyes, green-glowing and merciless. They loped in a loose formation, Spike to the fore, alert to every sound. Xander drew in deep breaths over his tongue, almost _tasting_ the air. Spike's blood was telling, more and more.

The air was heavy and warm; summer air, full of the ripe, green smells of growing things. There was the faint tang of the sea, the stronger scent of the river; complex smells of mud and water, dead fish and rotten wood. Fresh-turned earth, damp stone, Spike's duster, Oz's rich _wolfy_ smell. Night-insects made a background cacophony of drones and buzzes and whines, and an owl called and called again, disturbed in its own hunt. Suddenly Spike held up a hand, and they all slowed and stopped, listening. Voices - quarrelling and loud. The breeze veered a little and the scent came to them - of earth and magic and blood. Vampires. Spike grinned, and Oz yipped low in his throat. Xander was silent, but he could feel the building excitement coming from Spike and he fed it with his own - gleeful images of slaughter.

As one, they bolted, silent on the springy grass; Spike's duster snapping a bit, Oz keeping up a steady grumbling sing-song and Xander finally raising his chin and loosing a full-throated shriek as the nest came into view. Seven vampires - all roughly the same twenty-somethings - unremarkable clothes, various collegiate hairstyles. Three females, four males. They had a swath of junk spread out over a large tomb - clothes and wallets, cd's and a player, various other things. Squabbling over the loot. 

Xander took it all in in a sweeping glance as his call froze them for one crucial moment. Then they were on them, scattering the vampires like a flock of birds. Oz pounced on a female, all claws and fangs, jaws in her throat and ripping in one quick snap and shake, tearing half her neck away. A swipe of clawed hand at the rest and she was dust. Spike leaped for two males close together, a roar of pure unholy joy splitting the night. He was a flurry of leather and hard-angled limbs, bones snapping under his fists and feet, fangs and fingernails shredding flesh. In moments neither vamp could stand and he turned on the next closest, happy to draw out their deaths.

Xander went straight for a male who had managed to get several strides into the bushes. He leaped onto the vampire's back, bringing him down, and his hands went to jaw and temple. With a quick, hard twist he snapped the vamp's neck, rendering him immobile, then finished him with a stake. He couldn't actually bring himself to decapitate - without a weapon it was simply too bloody, and he didn't trust his new strength that much yet.

He glanced up to see Oz circling with the last female, swiping and lunging, and the vampire limping on a broken leg, blood at her stomach and throat. Spike dusted the last of his - he always got the highest count - then he too watched Oz, who darted in, feinted, then finished the reeling demon off with a wrench of powerful arms, tearing head from body in one clean jerk. 

_*want fuck mine*_ was coming in hard from Spike, and Xander gasped in a breath and laughed the hyena's ululating laugh, sending the thought right back, his cock rapidly hardening in his jeans.

"My God," someone said, and all three of them whirled around, snarling, tensed to attack. Buffy and Riley stood twenty feet away, staring. "Oz? _Xander_? What - what are you _doing_?"

Xander was the first to recover, straightening out of his crouch, running his hand back through his hair. He was panting, keyed up, and he knew, from the sudden flinch, that his eyes had caught the light and flashed the bale-fire green of the hyena. "Buffy," Xander said, and then couldn't think of anything else. His heart was pounding, he was slick with sweat, and adrenaline and arousal were making him shiver uncontrollably. 

_*Pack pack pack*_ through the link and Buffy was _*not pack*_ and Xander wasn't sure he could string together a coherent sentence.

Spike stalked forward a step or two, head still lowered and predatory enough for Riley to take a step back and Buffy to raise the stake she carried. "Sslayer. " Spike hissed, and stopped, head to one side, regarding her.

" _What_ is going on? Xander, why are you acting so weird? Was that - what Giles said? The hyena? What are you doing out here with Spike? And Oz?"

"Pa'rol, Buffy," Oz said, and Buffy caught her breath as Oz stepped out of the shadows, blood streaked up his arms, across his mouth. He was still partially the wolf - fangs and claws and more hair then usual -and the tar-pit eyes that were like a shark's. His words came out faintly distorted - slurred through the fangs. "We pa'rol. You know?"

" _You_ patrol? With _Spike_? Have the two of you gone crazy? You're going to get yourself killed, Xander!"

A low hiss from Spike, and he'd moved closer to the two of them, still with the demon's face. Oz went a little more wolf, growling low in his throat, and Xander finally gathered his wits enough to take a step closer, try on a wide smile. It felt more like a snarl, and must have looked like one, too, because Riley's eyes got very wide and Buffy firmed her stance a little, as if she expected Xander to attack her.

_*Spike! Back off!*_

Spike stopped his advance, swaying just a little. Oz prowled over to the vampire, leaning into him the merest fraction, and the sudden extra surge of lust from Spike almost made Xander forget what he was doing.

"Buffy - we patrol. Kill demons - kill vamps. Spike's being...Master of the Hellmouth, you know? We keep the dumb fledges out of the school and away from the stuff they shouldn't mess with. Keep the worst of the demons out. Hadn't you noticed...how slow it's been?" Buffy was looking at Spike and Oz, but at that she tore her gaze away from them and looked hard at Xander.

"I _had_ kinda wondered…. _How_ long have you been doing this, Xander?"

"Oh - a month or so, a little longer." Xander moved restlessly, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Spike had his hand on the back of Oz's neck - was rubbing his thumb slowly up and down the nape, in the short, newly indigo-blue hair. _*Want pack fix it*_ and the steady surge of _*need*_ made Xander shudder, and he wanted to be _home_ , right now. He took a step towards Spike and Oz, almost missing what Buffy was saying.

"Xander, I don't like you guys being out here, and I don't like _Spike_ being out here. And as for him being the 'Master of Sunnydale', that's a laugh." Buffy seemed to settle herself a little, and took a step towards Spike. Oz and Xander both stiffened, and Oz growled, deep in his chest. Buffy stopped, and let Riley pull her back.

"I think - we need to talk about this when...when everybody's not so tense. I'm going to talk to Giles about this, Xander. Just - get home, okay? Leave the patrolling to me."

"Not what you've been saying for the last four years, Buffy. Don't worry about us - we're pack. We protect our own."

Buffy's mouth opened silently, a hurt little gasp, and her expression softened for a moment. "Xander - please, tell me what's going on! You've been - you just haven't been around lately, at _all_ , and you and Willow seem to be - fighting all the time, and...you're just…."

Xander felt a jolt of guilt - he hadn't _meant_ to upset everyone - but it was drowned in what was coming off Spike - lost in the subtle arch of Oz's throat as he let Spike continue to pet him. Xander looked at Buffy, fighting for coherency. "I know it's been weird, Buffy. But -it's going to get better soon. I'm still your friend. I've just had - so much happen to me lately... I'm still here, Buffy. I promise you."

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, finally relaxing out of her stance, letting her hand drop all the way to her side. "Okay, Xander. I - I still want to talk to Giles. Just - go home and do something...not quite so freaky. I - we need to get going. My mom..."

"What about your mom, Buffy?"

"She - she's been sick, is all. Dawn's home alone with her, I need to get going. We'll talk later Xander, okay?"

"Is she gonna be alright, Buffy?" Xander felt a little surge of fear _*she'll be okay - has to be*_ , and Buffy kind of nodded, kind of shrugged.

"We don't really know. I - gotta go."

"Yeah," Xander said softly, and she and Riley turned and walked slowly away.

Spike sent a last snarl in their direction and then he turned to Xander, letting the demon's face go, head cocked to one side. "She'll be alright, pet. Joyce is tough. Want to go home now?" The worry over Joyce was still there, but it faded as Xander stared at Spike and Oz - the vampire's pale fingers stroking through ink-dark hair, Oz's eyes still dark behind his lashes, half-closed.

Xander shook his head fractionally, throwing off the intense desire to simply _*want **have***_ pounce on the two of them. "Yeah. Home. Let's go." By the time they'd gone a half-dozen strides they were running, and Xander sent a long and wavering cry chasing after Buffy and Riley, hoping they heard it. Hoping it scared them, just a little.

 

The drive home was silent, the tension in the truck palpable. Once there, Oz got first crack at the shower, being the goriest, and Xander and Spike stood in the kitchen, gulping down orange juice and a beer respectively, eyeing each other.

"Is what I think is going on...going on?" Xander finally asked, and Spike lit a cigarette, tossing his duster over a kitchen chair.

"You mean the wolfling? We have to - fix this, love. He thinks..."

"Yeah. He thinks he's...being pushed out?"

"Something like that." Spike took a long drag, watching Xander. "I want to do something. I know how to fix this - I think I know. But it has to be the three of us, and it has to be...you have to be willing, love, and so does he."

Xander finished his juice and put the glass in the sink. "You're talking about more than...sex, right?" 

Spike grinned, every bit as wolfish as Oz for a moment. "Yeah, I am. Although that's almost enough right there. We need - _he_ needs - to really be a part of this. Of the pack. We need to share our blood with him, pet. Just a little." 

Xander leaned back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest, frowning. Sheer nerves made him lean and turn on the radio, soft jazz spilling out into the quiet. _*Yours always only yours*_ from Spike, comforting - reaffirming. 

"You think that'll work?"

"It'll fix a lot of it. And...I need this too, Xander. If he was - if this was a nest, vampires, we'd all have shared - we'd all be...linked. The demon wants to claim him, make him family, and that's - the only way it knows." 

Xander rubbed his hands back through his hair - watched Spike reach and stub out his cigarette. "But he can't bite us, Spike. I mean - Oz is family, but I don't wanna be a wolfman."

"And I like you pelt-free myself, love. He doesn't have to bite - just get the blood in him. Just a little cut, from each of us, and let the blood flow a little... He keeps away from the cut, that won't hurt either of us, and he'll get what he needs. "

"Will it be - "

"Like us? No. That small of an amount, the one time - no. It'll be just enough, is all."

Xander pushed away from the counter and went to lean into Spike, untucking Spike's t-shirt and worming his hands up underneath, caressing ribs and shoulder blades. He ghosted kisses over Spike's face, jaw and throat. Spike sighed and hugged him close, his own lips teasing the claim mark that shone palely at the juncture of Xander's neck and shoulder; a silvery hieroglyph against the work-tanned skin. The link thrummed with _*want*_ but with acceptance, as well. 

Xander sighed and shifted, and they separated slowly when Oz came out. The werewolf was in sweats and a torn 'Dingoes' t-shirt, and he sank down onto a kitchen chair, looking worn and a little down. Spike tipped his head towards the back of the house and Xander nodded.

"Hey Oz, we're gonna clean up real quick and then - we need to talk about something. We'll be right back out, okay?" Oz looked up at them, his eyes dark and his face clean of all expression. He nodded once and went back to studying his hands, and Xander and Spike went into the bedroom and stripped, moving quickly to the bathroom and showering without the usual foreplay. 

They were both aroused - tense - and Xander felt a ripple of fear in his belly. Oz needed something from them - needed to _belong_ , and Xander wanted to help him - let him know, however he could, that he was a part of them, a part of the pack. He hoped Spike was right - that this was the way to do it. The thought of driving Oz away, of somehow screwing this up, made him feel a little sick and a lot terrified. Spike was roughly towel-drying his hair and he stopped and came over to Xander - leaned into him for a long, hard kiss.

"It'll be alright, Xander. You'll see. We'll fix this, fix the wolf. Don't be scared, love." 

Xander smiled shakily at him. "Yeah. I trust you, Spike. I guess...I just don't trust _me_ , maybe. Don't let me screw this up, okay?"

"Not a chance, love," Spike whispered, and _*love you beautiful mine*_ made Xander grin. He leaned in for another kiss and then slipped away to brush his teeth while Spike went into the bedroom. When Xander joined him, Spike had lit their bedside candle and spread the sheet and quilt smoothly over the mattress and up around the pillows. The lube was discreetly tucked half-way behind the candle and Spike was pulling on the gorgeous brocade robe he'd 'nicked' from somewhere a month ago. 

_*Man's got to have a proper dressing gown.*_

Xander got his own robe and together they went back out to the kitchen. Oz was still huddled miserably on his chair, his knees drawn up and his forehead pressed against them. He seemed to be shaking, and when Xander walked up to him and put his hand on the thin shoulder, he raised a pale, tear-streaked face to them. Immediately, Xander pulled a chair up close and sat down, tugging Oz over into a gentle embrace.

"Oz - come on. What is it? What's - tell us what's the matter." Spike settled onto the table on the other side of Oz, leaning elbows on knees, feet dangling, his expression for once totally serious.

"Oh, I... I'm just... scared, I guess." Oz sat up and wiped impatiently at his face; pushed his fingers back through his hair, making the glossy dark-blue strands stand up wildly.

"Scared of what, pet?" Spike asked, and Oz glanced at him, letting out a short, harsh laugh.

"Of...me, I guess. Ever since the Initiative...ever since they got me, I've felt like...what if I _am_ a monster? I mean...I went in there with you that night and I… _killed_ those people, and I didn't...even care, Spike! I didn't care. They were _people_ , and I..." Oz stopped, putting his head back down on his knees, and Xander gently rubbed his back, looking over at Spike. The vampire looked back, frowning.

"I can't help you with that, pet. I did the same, and you know I don't give a fuck for who I killed in there, or how I did it. They all had it comin', and I'd do it again tomorrow if I could." A flash of gold, the demon flickering out and then away, and Xander looked at Oz, thinking.

"You said that - death by vampire - or by werewolf - was natural, Oz. That - dead was dead."

Oz lifted his face, tear-streaked again, and gave another of those strangled laughs. "What if I was _wrong_ , Xander? What if I...said that just to make myself feel better? 'Cause if Spike - if William the Bloody is _natural_ , if he can...still hunt and feed off people and you can love him, then that puts me just about up there with Jesus Christ, doesn't it? What if he really _is_ a monster? If he is, then I am too. The Initiative wanted me, too, and...I did the same things he did, Xander, I killed them -"

"Enough now, pet." Spike's voice was stern but quiet, and Oz rubbed at his eyes with the hem of his t-shirt and looked up at the vampire. "You and me, we're worlds apart. You got bit - got this wolf thing - you never wanted it. You let them lock you up in a bloody _cage_ every month so you wouldn't hurt anybody. Fuck, you went to the ends of the earth to find a - a cure, or whatever you want to call it." Spike reached out and cupped Oz's cheek in his hand, fingertips rubbing lightly through the soft hair over the werewolf's ear, his thumb resting gently just under Oz's lower lip.

"Me, I _saw_ Dru, right before she bit me. I didn't know exactly what she was but I knew she wasn't human - knew she was offering me the Devil's road. And I took it, wolf, I took it _gladly_. I _wanted_ what she was offering and the first time I tore the throat out of a human I only wanted _more_. Until Xander I never gave a moment's thought to the people I was killing, and I wouldn't now except it would hurt him."

Spike glanced over at Xander and the _*love you*_ from Xander was so fierce it made the vampire draw in a sharp breath. Spike looked back at Oz - let his hand drop to cover the werewolf's slender fingers, lacing them with his own.

"What you did - you'll never do it again. You never _would_ have if they hadn't done it to you first. They tried to make you a monster, but they failed. You're no bloody monster, pet, never will be. You're _family_ here - part of the pack. You told Xander: don't hate himself, for what I do. Don't you go hating yourself for what you were driven to, wolfling. You got your revenge. You took back what was yours. Now it's done, and it's just us, fightin' the good fight and pissin' off the Slayer whenever we can, eh?" Spike grinned at him, and after a moment Oz smiled wanly back, and Xander rubbed gently at the nape of Oz's neck, pushing his fingers through the soft, thick hair.

"You've been _pack_ to me for a long time, Oz. Even before the werewolf thing. The hyena always wanted you. I was doing the whole 'denial' thing, of course, or maybe we'd...maybe we'd have been better friends. But you always felt - _right_ to me." Oz pushed back lightly into Xander's hand, looking calmer, and Xander kept up the gentle caress, ignoring the _*want*_ from Spike that threatened to drown him.

"Spike's right. You're no monster. You belong here. You're doing what most people in Sunnydale would never even consider doing. You're fighting the monsters they won't even acknowledge exist. You're doing the right thing, Oz. Nothing can change that. " Xander glanced up at Spike - sent a question through the link, and Spike raised his eyebrow and nodded, silent.

"We love you, Oz. Family, like Spike said."

Oz looked at Xander, his jade-green eyes steady and calm, finally, and infinitely old. There was sorrow there, but it was giving way before something else, and Xander had to smile, and Oz did too. The werewolf reached out and took Xander's hand in his - clasped it fiercely, the same with Spike's in his other hand. He looked between the two of them, and he seemed to have resolved something in himself - seemed to be putting aside the fear that had weighed him down for so long.

"Family, then." Oz said softly, and ducked his head, then looked back up and his smile was wider, almost laughing. "Thank you." 

Spike leaned forward, slipping his hand free and curving it around Oz's neck, pulling him close. The kiss that followed was slow and soft and utterly sensual, and Xander felt the tension and the want that had hovered all evening suddenly slam through him like a tidal wave, and he knew he made a small, desperate sound in the back of his throat, watching them. Oz's hand in his clenched down tight. Spike finally drew back, and Oz just sat there for a moment, eyes closed. 

When he opened them they were black, and Xander felt a twist of desire and excitement in his belly - felt it from Spike through the link, _*need pack need **now** *_ and Xander pushed himself to his feet. He tugged the werewolf up, the heady scents of both Oz and Spike making him reel for a moment.

"C'mon Oz. Somethin' we gotta do. Somethin' for all of us, okay?"

"Okay," Oz breathed, and Spike slid down from the table, pausing only to blow out the kitchen candle and slip something out of a pocket in his duster. The radio had switched to a song now, soft flute, guitar, rat-a-tat of a drum. The three of them turned and walked into the dimly golden cave of the bedroom, and Spike quietly shut the door.

_"I believe in fires at midnight when the dogs have all been fed._  
_A golden toddy on the mantle a broken gun beneath the bed._  
_Silken mist outside the window. Frogs and newts slip in the dark_  
_too much hurry ruins the body. I'll sit easy… fan the spark_  
_kindled by the dying embers of another working day._  
_Go upstairs … take off your makeup fold your clothes neatly away._  
_Me, I'll sit and write this love song as I all too seldom do_  
_build a little fire this midnight. It's good to be back home with you."_

 

The bedroom seemed warm, with the candle burning - faintly perfumed with sweet-grass and the citrus shampoo from the bathroom. Xander led Oz to the side of the bed and then stopped there, his robe falling open and his eyes huge and dark. Spike could hear their combined hearts, pounding in double-time; could hear Xander's breath shortening to pants and Oz's catching on a thin thread of noise - a whine that seemed to come involuntarily from his throat. 

Spike shed his robe to the floor and moved up behind Oz. He lay his straight-razor, that he'd snatched out of his duster, at the foot of the bed, and put his hands lightly on Oz's hips. The wolf twitched, nerves and startlement, and Spike bent a little and nuzzled into his still-damp hair. The earthy scent of the wolf was strong, and Spike breathed it in - moved his face down to the frail skin at the nape of Oz's neck and just hovered there for a moment. Oz twitched again, and Spike felt Xander's hands skim his - slide up Oz's t-shirt and cradle the werewolf's jaw. 

Xander bent and kissed Oz, gentle and slow, a mirror of what Spike had done in the kitchen, and Oz made another thready sound, a whimpering noise that made Spike want to pounce on him and kiss him - fuck him - until that sound became a scream.

 _*Want want want*_ was the only coherent thing from the link, and Spike felt the first tremble of almost uncontrollable arousal - the _need_ that was driving all three of them. The demon, wanting to take and _have_. It was like some hot and coiling snake, slithering out from his belly and lacing through his bones, and Spike groaned and pressed his mouth to Oz's neck - began to kiss; behind his ear, his jaw, along the edge of the t-shirt. He slid his fingers up under the hem of the shirt and pushed, lifting it, and Xander finally broke their kiss, gasping a little, letting Spike maneuver the shirt over Oz's head and toss it aside. 

Xander gave a little roll of his shoulders and his own robe slithered free of him, puddling around his feet. Spike stepped closer, pressing his chest to Oz's back and the werewolf gasped, shivering. Spike ran his hands down Oz's arms, tracing the curve and swell of bicep and triceps, the delicate bones of forearm and wrist and the long, agile fingers. He lifted Oz's hands up, bringing them around to rest on his own hips, and Oz clutched fiercely, grinding back. 

Xander had leaned in for more kisses - quick, nibbling ones all along the werewolf's jaw and throat and chest. He lingered over the pale circles of Oz's nipples, grazing with his tongue and then with his teeth, and Oz made that _noise_ again, tipping his head back, his eyes closed and his mouth open. Spike couldn't tear his eyes from the pale, fragile sweep of Oz's throat, and he bent swiftly and grazed his teeth over the jugular. Whimper. Harder pressure of teeth and the whimper was louder - needier. Oz's pulse jumped and fluttered under Spike's mouth, and a soft moan escaped him.

Xander slipped to his knees, his eyes fixed on Spike's, and his hands rose and tugged, pulling Oz's sweats down and then off, carefully disentangling them from his feet. Spike tore his gaze away from Xander's and looked down, at a heaving belly, jutting curve of hipbone, dense triangle of dark, auburn hair. Oz's cock was straining upwards, darkly engorged and slick. Xander put his hands on Oz's hips, stroking the knob of bone under pale skin, pushing up to trail his fingernails over the edge of the ribcage that came and went with each panting breath the werewolf took. 

Xander dipped his head down, rubbing his cheek into the crease of flesh between Oz's hip and thigh, licking and sucking, and Oz moaned, bucking forward, his rich scent intensifying, the wetness at the tip of his cock pulsing out, shivering droplets. Oz's fingers dug into Spike's buttocks, almost painful, the pressure of his buttocks on Spike's cock delicious and teasing.

"What's he taste like, Xander - taste him - " Spike whispered, and Xander swayed upright and extended his tongue, lapping delicately. Oz strained against Spike's hold on his wrists - twisted his hips forward, but Xander pushed him back, and Spike felt his own erection slip along the channel between sweat-slicked buttocks, making him press harder. Oz was gasping helplessly now, his knees bending as Xander took the tip of his cock between his lips and sucked gently. Then suddenly Xander stood, whole-body slither, and he was pressing his mouth to Spike's, tongue slipping inside and the werewolf's taste exploded across Spike's tongue, mixed with Xander's own unique flavor. They both surged forward, pressing into Oz's trembling flesh, and Spike broke away from Xander's mouth to pant harshly in Oz's ear.

"You taste like almonds, wolfling - like earth and almonds and - " Spike let one of Oz's hands go and lifted his own hand to turn Oz's head, bending in for a kiss that was rough and demanding, deep as he could go. Oz tasted like almonds there, too, and Xander was suddenly stepping away, up against the bed.

"Oz - I want you. _We_ do. Is that - " Xander stopped, his hand lifting and coming to rest on the pale shoulder, rubbing there. "Is this okay? Will this be okay?" _*Want scared*_ through the link, and Spike knew what Xander was saying - took a step back, letting go, not touching at all and the wolfling swayed a little, his breathing rough and rapid.

"You gotta - gotta say yes or no, Oz. I don't want - don't want this to be wrong."

Oz put his hand over Xander's, holding it still, looking up at him and his eyes cleared, wholly human.  
"I want it. I _need_ it. The wolf does. It's like I'm lost out here, just...drifting. I - we need to be - part of something. Tied to something. It _hurts_ \- " Oz stopped, head bowed, and Spike moved forward, enfolding the smaller, leaner body - pulling Oz back until they were touching along their whole length, no gaps between. 

Xander stepped close again, doing the same, holding Oz _*safe pack*_ tightly between them. Spike could feel the werewolf's heartbeat, strong and rapid and steady, and he inhaled the combined scents of the three of them. It was a warm, heady mix and Spike felt the purr start in his chest, almost more vibration then sound, and Oz laughed.

"God, that's... " he twisted around to flash a grin up at Spike, teeth and the wolf's eyes, and Xander stepped away again, backing up into the bed and collapsing back on it. "Bring him here, Spike...wanna..." Xander wormed upwards, ending propped on his elbows, legs in a wanton sprawl. Spike grasped the slender hips in his hands and steered Oz forward, knee behind knee, nudging him up onto the bed. At the last moment Xander twisted aside and Oz was on his belly, head bowed between his shoulders, trembling.

Spike lay on the other side of the werewolf, the purr fading, and he and Xander began to work they way down the pale body, licking and kissing and biting, going from feather-light touches to bruisingly hard ones. Their hands stroked afterwards, their own erections digging into Oz's hips or thighs. Oz _whimpered_ , gasped, moaned aloud. His hands clenched in the quilt and his hips writhed, digging into the mattress.

Spike motioned to Xander, sending an image through the link and Xander immediately complied. He tugged at Oz until the werewolf lay over him, groin to belly. Xander bent his knees, getting them between Oz's thighs and pushing them apart, all the while holding his jaw and kissing him. Spike's mouth moved from Oz's nape down his spine, trailing wetness, leaving little bruise marks from teeth and suction. 

Spike lay flat on the bed, letting his tongue slip between the tautly muscled buttocks, gathering the dark, salty flavor of the werewolf into his mouth. His tongue glided over puckered flesh and the slick perineum, and he gently pulled Oz's scrotum into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. Oz bucked, gasping, and Xander's hands slid down, combing briefly through Spike's hair before going back up to knead Oz's back and shoulders. Spike let his tongue slip back up, to probe gently and then to push _in_ , and Oz cried out, shuddering. Spike continued to fuck the werewolf with his mouth, stabbing and licking and going as deep as he could until Oz was grinding into Xander, his head down on Xander's shoulder, fists clenched in the quilt, and his voice breaking, trembling.

"Please, please, Spike - _please_ , need it, need you, _please_ \- " 

Xander stretched, reaching, and Spike felt the lube being pushed into his hand. He flipped it open and slicked himself, his own want a fierce ache in his belly, his face rippling between human and demon, barely in control. Xander let his legs fall - did a quick re-arrangement of limbs and Oz was on his knees, face to Xander's chest. Xander lifted his legs, opening himself, and Oz yipped in startlement when Spike's cool, slick hand reached around and coated him in lube. He pumped forward mindlessly into the loose grip and Spike withdrew. He sent a question to Xander _*can you*_ and Xander responded by pulling Oz closer, legs around the werewolf's ribs.

"Oz, come on - want you in me, Oz - want you to fuck me..." Xander whispered, and Oz lifted his head and moved, a little clumsy, shaking hand guiding himself forward to rest against and then _push_ into Xander. Xander arched his back and groaned, but it was _*want yes **now** *_ through the link and Spike scrambled to his knees - put a hand on Oz's hip and rubbed the tip of his cock down, into the slick crease, and then he, too, was pushing, pushing in, and Oz threw his head back, his breathing rapid and hoarse, his mouth open. Then Spike was in, going deeper, and he pushed harder and _Oz_ was going deeper and Xander was writhing, urging him forward, chanting breathlessly.

"Oz, fuck, so good, Spike...ooh... " his voice choked off as Spike surged forward again, deep as he could go and Oz _howled_ , and then the three of them were moving, thrusting, finding the rhythm that _worked_ , and Spike set his teeth on Oz's shoulder, holding and letting the prickle of fangs spur Oz on. They strove together, breathless, fingers leaving bruises, nails scratching. Spike pinched at Oz's nipples, reached and did the same to Xander, and Oz was trembling now, gasping, and Spike suddenly reached behind him, feeling over the quilt until his fingers found the chill, flat shape of the straight razor. 

He pushed forward _hard_ , crushing Oz down onto Xander and the two of them cried out. Xander's eyes were wide and glinting green in the candle-glow, and Spike bared his fangs at him in a snarl. "Hold still, hold still wolfling." They all three were frozen, trembling, Xander and Oz panting harshly, Spike feeling the demon fighting for control - desperate to claim the werewolf for its own - be the Master of the nest, the pack. But Spike didn't take without asking - not in this, not with Oz.

"We want you to taste our blood, wolf. Take us into you - take you into us. Be - linked. Be family from the inside out. It won't be like - not like me and Xander. But close. You'll be able to feel us - all the time. And we'll feel you." Xander was arching upward minutely, his hands clenching on Oz's hip and thigh, and Spike sent _*wait wait*_ , barely able to control his own desire. Oz lifted his head, looking around at Spike - at the straight razor. He stared at it - up at Spike, for a long moment.

"You really - want that? With me?"

"Yes!" from Xander, emphatic, positive, and Spike nodded.

"Fuck yeah, wolf. Want it. Want you. Will you?" 

Oz moved, twisting his hips a little, and Spike and Xander both caught their breath, _*oh want want*_ in the link and impossible to tell who was thinking it. "God. Yeah. I want to do it. Please, I want to," Oz whispered, and the hyena and the demon both roared in triumph. 

Carefully, Spike drew the razor over his forearm, the skin slicing cleanly away from the blade. Blood began to flow, and he held the wound over Xander's chest, letting the blood spatter over sternum and pectoral. Xander held up his own arm and Spike cut him. Xander did the same as Spike, letting his own blood fall onto his chest, mingling with Spike's. The scent hit them all like a hammer-blow, and Oz lifted his head, wild-eyed.

"Taste it, wolfling. Taste us. Take us into you." Spike whispered and Oz turned black, fathomless eyes on him for a moment before lowering his head. He ran his tongue over Xander's chest, chasing the scarlet trails, pulling the flesh into his mouth and sucking, cleaning every drop away. 

Spike went back to a sinuous and steady rhythm with his hips, the heat of Oz's body like fire around him, the heady scents of blood and sweat and musky sex making him giddy. Xander was moaning softly and he reached for Spike's arm and pulled it to his mouth, sealing his lips over the cut and sucking, his tongue fluttering over the skin. Spike did the same, tasting _*want*_ and _*love*_ and _*mine*_ in Xander's blood. The flow stopped after another moment, the cuts sealing themselves off. The razor clattered to the floor and Spike pushed forward, crushing Oz down, feeling the tip of his cock find that place inside and Oz _yelled_ , hips pistoning.

Xander did his best to move beneath their combined weights but could do little, only lock his hands behind his knees and hold himself open, accepting them both onto him with low, urgent moans. The image came to them both simultaneously and Xander stretched up as Spike leaned down, and they both drove teeth into opposite sides of Oz's neck, biting the muscle there, breaking the skin and pulling the hot, rich blood into their mouths. 

Oz tasted like dark earth, rain, green - tasted feral and salt and _other_ ; the lunar magic of the wolf like a vein of pure sugar in bitter chocolate. Oz threw his head back and howled - full-throated, wavering - the wolf calling his pack-mates to him. Spike felt the familiar fire and ice of orgasm sweeping through him, urging his body to frantic movement. He felt Xander's own orgasm through the link - felt _Oz_ through Xander, overlapping sense of bodies, and he wrenched his fangs away and roared into the night, Xander's own cry echoing beneath him, the heat and sweat of Oz soaking through him, burning him. 

Long, long moments passed in a daze, as their bodies gradually slowed and then stuttered to a halt, exhaustion weighing them down as they slipped sideways, crumpling in a heap. Oz was trembling between them, panting, and Spike nestled close, letting his thigh slip over a sweat-slick hip, letting his fingers trail randomly over ribs and chest, shoulder and arm. Xander did the same, pressing close and touching, letting his hand brush Spikes' again and again as they both petted and soothed the werewolf. 

Oz was finally limp, his breathing near-normal, and Xander squirmed free and made a staggering trip into the bathroom - came out with a towel, one corner warm and wet, and did a quick, gentle clean-up. Then he lay back down, once again enveloping Oz, and Spike put his arm over Oz's ribs and pulled Xander close, leaning up for a kiss and then settling back down, nuzzling into Oz's damp hair. Xander kissed Oz lightly, again and again, and finally Oz stirred, a tiny smile on his lips and _*love pack*_ faint and thready.

"Oz - was that you? I felt that - I felt you, Oz..." Xander whispered, wide-eyed, and Spike felt Xander open up to Oz - open to _him_ \- sending _*pack love you ours*_. 

Oz jerked, startled, and then looked at Xander - looked around at Spike in wonder. "Is that how you feel? Is that what it is? Like...someone inside, holding me..."

"That's it, love. That's the link. That's us."

"Already?" Oz asked faintly, and Spike kissed the back of his neck, settling closer.

 _*Us ours pack*_ "Yeah - you've magic in you, same as me and same as Xander does, since the claim. Powerful blood. It'll...fade a bit. Won't be this strong again. But it won't ever go away, no matter how faint it gets. We'll always be there in you, wolfling. Always."

 

 

 

_________________

The Charlton Heston imitation is from ' _Planet of the Apes_ '.  
Robert Johnson - _Hellhounds on my Trail_  
Jethro Tull - _Fires at Midnight_


	18. Showing

Spike woke to voices - low and tense - from the kitchen. He curled himself a little tighter, surrounded by the scents of Xander and, more faintly, Oz; content to just lie and listen. He could hear the wolfling - could feel him, as well, a thready pulse of _*worry affection*_ directed not at him but elsewhere. He picked out the blonde witch's voice after a moment, and then….

_*Dawn? What's she doing here?*_ Spike listened harder, but what they were saying didn't make much sense - something about the Magic Box, and the Slayer, and - 

" _Spike!_ " Spike jumped, wincing. Dawn was somehow able to raise the pitch of her voice up high enough to shatter glass, and it was not kind to vampiric ears - or wolf ears either, probably. Spike poked his head above the covers and saw Dawn, standing in the doorway with arms akimbo, her face a mixture of shock and possibly embarrassment as Spike sat up and the sheet slipped down to his hips, exposing more skin then she'd probably seen before.

"Bloody hell, Niblet, what are you _doing_ in here!"

"I was _going_ to use the bathroom. What are you doing in Xander's bed?"

"I was _sleeping_ , before you came in here and shrieked like a banshee." Spike made a move to throw the covers back and get up and Tara was suddenly in the doorway, her eyes huge and her hand going out.

"Spike! Why don't you - w-why don't you let D-dawn get in the bathroom be-before you get up?"

"Does _Xander_ know you're sleeping in his bed?" Dawn asked, arms crossed, eyebrow going up in that smug 'you're in trouble _now_ ' look that she must have practiced from the cradle.

"Course he knows, Bit, now get outta here so I can get dressed." Dawn scowled at him and stomped past to the bathroom, pointedly shutting the door and _not_ slamming it. Spike flung the covers back and stalked to the dresser and Tara made a small choking noise and whirled around, darting back into the kitchen.

There was _*laughter*_ from Oz and Spike hastily yanked on a pair of jeans and went into the kitchen as well, not bothering to do up more then the first two buttons. The house was pleasantly dim, the curtains drawn and the light a greeny-gold through the leaves of the trees surrounding it. Tara was sitting at the table with Oz, both of them with a soda. Spike made a growly sort of noise in his throat as he stomped past, snatching up lighter and cigarettes from the counter and doing the microwaved-water and tea-bag tea that was fast, if not as tasty as real tea. After a moment's hesitation he grabbed his bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet and slumped into a chair.

Tara stared at him for one long second - shirtless, jeans slipping half off his hips, hair a wild, un-gelled tangle - and her face went painfully red. She bowed over her soda and the _*laughter*_ from Oz faded a bit, _*guilt*_ seeping in. Oz was…different, in the link. There was no mistaking him and the image-heavy flow he used, and what he sent easily translated into something Spike and Xander could both understand. The wolf seemed to have more control over the link then Oz himself did, but Oz was learning fast.

"Somebody want to tell me what in bloody hell you three are doing here at - at - " Spike squinted at the microwave and saw that it was one-thirty. "Bloody _early_ in the afternoon?" He lit his cigarette and poured a healthy dollop of whiskey into his tea - looked up at Dawn's disgusted noise and snarled at her. "Lay off, Bit. It's too early for one of your sodding lectures."

Dawn flung herself into the last kitchen chair and Oz took a sip of his soda - glanced over at Dawn and then looked at Spike.

"When I got to work today Mr. Bogarty was dead. _*Vampires*_ The gang came in to get some stuff and...Buffy didn't want Dawn to -"

"Didn't want me around, as usual -"

"Didn't want Dawn to see...him, so she asked Tara and me to - hang out with her for a while. The gang's going to see what's what."

"Huh. Dead, huh? Somebody getting outta line, then. Have to look into that." Spike drained the rest of his tea - eyed his cup and then Dawn, and poured straight whiskey in, this time. _*Too damn early for this shite, why does this always happen to these people? They're **all** demon magnets.*_

Dawn sniffed a little, trying out weepy since righteous anger hadn't done a thing. "Some weird homeless guy practically attacked me in the street -"

" _What?_ " Spike all but roared, and Dawn flinched back and then sat up straighter, looking a little shocked and a little pleased.

"He was all up in my face and he said - said he was a cat, and that I didn't belong."

"Well, he was crazy, obviously." Spike drained his cup and hunched up over the table, feeling a headache coming on. 

"It scared me," Dawn said, little-girl voice and sniffles, and Spike rolled his eyes, stubbing out his cigarette.

"Oh, Dawnie, it's okay..." Tara patted her arm and Dawn scrunched down in her chair, looking pitiful.

"Come on, Little Bit, nothing to be scared of. You know we wouldn't let anything hurt you."

Dawn smiled shakily at him, leaning into the circle of Tara's protective arms. The phone rang and Oz got up to answer it, letting his hand brush over Spike's shoulder as he passed, _*pack*_ warmly through the link, and Spike reached for another cigarette, ignoring Dawn's automatic scowl. 

Most of what he felt for her was from Xander; memories of a skinny ten-year-old who had hung on Xander and followed him like a puppy-dog, trying to worm secrets out of him about what her sister was up to. Movie nights at Red's house when the Slayer had been coerced into bringing her little sister and Dawn and Xander had pigged out on soda and ice cream and driven everyone else batty with the resultant sugar high. Memories of a budding twelve-year-old who had cried on Xander's shoulder when she fell in front of the whole class and split her skirt, and who had very formally asked Xander to the Sadie Hawkins dance at her school. Slayer's little sister, and who'd ever heard of _that_ before.

Spike had his own memories, the very first being Dawn sitting stiff and bewildered next to Joyce on the couch the night he'd made the deal with the Slayer. She'd asked what sort of music they played in their 'band' and Spike had given her five lines of a Sex Pistols song before he'd realized that Dawn had probably just heard more four-letter words in that one minute than in her whole life. He had shut up, glancing apologetically at Joyce who was looking a bit shell-shocked herself.

Just lately Dawn had taken 'obnoxious teenager' to an all-time high, but Spike didn't blame her. The Slayer was being particularly bitchy, G.I. Joe was always hanging about (and who _wouldn't_ be annoyed by that), and now Joyce was sick. That had to make Dawn all kinds of miserable. Spike plumed smoke up towards the ceiling and glanced at Oz who was coming back into the kitchen, face blank but the link tense with _*Slayer*_.

"That was Buffy - she and Giles are going to come and get Dawn in a little bit." Spike tensed, wondering if the Watcher would dare start anything. He glanced at Dawn and relaxed a bit. He wouldn't, not in front of Dawn. And Tara, who was as uninformed as the rest, as far as the Watcher knew. It wouldn't do to have to twist the Slayer's head off in front of her little sis. Oz settled back into his chair, feet up on the seat and chin on knees. There was still tension in what he was sending, but it tapered off when Spike sent _*calm*_ to him, letting his own tension bleed away.

"I'm hungry," Dawn said, sitting up suddenly and looking at Spike expectantly.

Spike stared back at her, nonplussed. "Don't look at me, Niblet. You know I don't cook."

"Can't we order something? Please? I was supposed to get school clothes today and of course Buffy had to go off and do Slayer stuff so I won't have anything decent to wear when school starts next week and I thought we'd be at the Mall so I didn't eat any breakfast and I'm _starving_ , Spike." They all stared at her.

"Christ, Bit, you been taking lessons from Red? We could get - we could get pizza, I guess." Dawn grinned and bounced in her chair and Oz got up again, getting the phone. He knew Spike wouldn't touch it if he didn't have to, and Spike was glad that Oz didn't mind. Spike hated phones. 

_*Scared*_ , from Oz, and Spike grinned around his cigarette and sent a little flicker of an image - something from that day, a week past, that they'd claimed him. Oz on the bed with Xander, back arched, throat taut and working and his hips moving just so... He grinned when Oz made a small groaning noise and stepped hastily around the door frame into the living room.

_*Teach him to be snotty*_ , Spike thought, and poured a third whiskey. He was gonna need it, if the Watcher _and_ the Slayer were going to be in the house.

The pizza arrived ten minutes before the Slayer did, and by that time Spike had been persuaded to finish dressing. Oz had sent him _*sexy*_ and then that little-doll image that was Dawn to Oz, and Spike had suddenly realized he was sitting half-undressed with bruise-marks on him from sex in front of the Slayer's little sister.

_*Promised Xander I wouldn't push it. This would be...pushing it.*_ Spike had stood up and walked around to the bedroom door, aware of the wolfling and Tara watching him, making sure to be completely behind Dawn. _*'Course there's pushing and there's…pushing*_ He'd smirked to himself and then stretched hard, reaching up to the ceiling, arching his back. The jeans had slid a good three inches lower, and Tara had made a squeaking noise in her throat, dropping her pizza.

Oz had just stared, eyes half closed, very still. The link roiling with arousal and want and Spike had grinned and went to find a t-shirt. Hard on that performance came something from Xander, _*want*_ and _*stop that*_ in the same thought, and he'd sent _*want now*_ right back, smirking to himself. 

Spike pulled on a t-shirt and then after a moment's consideration added socks and his boots. You never knew when you might regret being barefoot. He fixed his hair and sauntered back into the kitchen where Dawn, oblivious, was nose-deep in her second slice of pizza, happily babbling about some new movie she wanted to see. Tara wouldn't even look at him, and Oz was now grinning into his own pizza, and the weird little flash of 'I am not getting a hard-on in front of Dawn' thoughts - image of nuns and _*dead kittens*_ made Spike break out in startled snorts of laughter.

"Bloody hell, wolfling," Spike muttered, and sprawled back down in his chair, pouring more whiskey and getting a slice of pizza. Dawn hopped up and went to the 'fridge and grabbed a soda, then stood there for a minute. 

"Spike, you don't have any blood."

"Hmm? Oh - no. Drank the last of it yesterday. Have to get some tonight." Something from Oz then - a mental shiver and _*hunt*_. The wolf, intruding with its own red-tinged thoughts.

"Oh," Dawn said, her tone a little disappointed, and she came back to the table, popping open her soda. Spike smirked at her and took a huge bite of pizza. He'd gotten into the habit of having a bag or two of blood around whenever he knew the Niblet would be coming over. She acted grossed out, but he knew that secretly she thought it was fascinating - in a sick sort of way - the many things he would combine with blood. Mostly he did it to give her something to dish about to Joyce and the Slayer, but also to subtly reinforce the idea that he was still unable to hunt for himself. 

_*Keep 'em stuck in the 'helpless vamp' way of thinking. Can only be to my benefit*_

Spike felt the insistent tickle in the back of his neck that meant 'Slayer', and he mentally steeled himself. He had no idea what Buffy's reaction to him would be - still angry over the patrol incident, or dismissive in the face of her problems with her mum? He doubted Giles had told her anything, but he was ready just the same. Oz answered their knock, and Buffy strode into the kitchen, an odd expression on her face as she saw them grouped at the table. Giles hovered in the living room doorway, looking from Tara to Dawn to Oz and then settling on Spike, his gaze becoming hard and cold. Spike lifted an eyebrow at him and stuffed a little more pizza in his mouth.

"Come on, Dawn, time to go," Buffy said, and Dawn stiffened in her chair, pouting.

"I haven't finished my pizza yet, Buffy. It just got here." Dawn took a huge bite, glaring at Buffy over pepperoni, and Buffy crossed her arms, glaring back.

"You can get a doggie bag or whatever. You need to get home and Tara and Willow have things to do -"

"I can stay here with Spike and Oz; _they_ don't mind having me around." Dawn's voice was getting shriller and Spike steeled himself for the ear-drum-shattering shriek that was sure to follow. Buffy's eyes went wide and then narrowed dangerously, and Spike leaned back in his chair, grinning. 

_*This could be fun.*_

"Dawn -"

"You don't want me around anyway, so why don't you just go and do your precious Slayer stuff and leave. Me. _Alone_!"

_*There it is! Christ. Need ear-plugs when she's around*_

Dawn shoved her chair back and fled to the bathroom, this time slamming the door hard enough to rattle the frosted glass panes. Everyone was silent for a moment and then Buffy threw her head back and made a strangled screaming sound of pure frustration.

"Aaaah! _Why_ does she _do_ this! She _knows_ I have to do this stuff - it's not like I asked for those vamps to come in and eat Mr. Whathisface! And _you_ \- " Suddenly, Buffy was in Spike's face, a lacquered fingernail poking his chest, her eyes snapping. " _You_ are supposed to be the 'Master of Sunnydale', how did these new vamps slip past your radar? Can't you even do _this_ right?"

Spike glanced down at the pink nail poking into his chest - reached and snagged a cigarette and lit it - blew smoke gently over the Slayer's head. "Piss off, Slayer," he said, and Buffy drew back her fist and punched, slamming his head sideways, splitting his lip.

Spike didn't bother to control the demon - he felt himself change, and licked thoughtfully at the blood that was welling from his mouth, his eyes never leaving Buffy's. He knew the link was nothing but _*rage*_ and Oz's eyes were dark, his hands curling into claws. Reacting to Spike - to the link - so completely it was almost scary. Spike growled, low in his chest, pushing himself slowly to his feet and standing over the Slayer.

"How's your mum, Slayer?" he asked, low, and dodged the next punch she aimed at him. Oz was on his feet as well now, and Tara, both looking shocked and a bit angry, and Spike took a step back and shook the demon away - took a long drag of his cigarette.

"You are a _pig_. Don't you _dare_ talk about my mother." Buffy's voice was choked, shaky and furious, and Spike grinned at her.

"Buffy - it's okay if you leave Dawn here. I can bring her home." Oz, trying to stop - whatever was happening, and Spike finally acknowledged the _*calm calm*_ the wolfling was sending; staccato bursts of emotion that were anything _but_ calm. Buffy blinked and looked over at Oz - at Tara, who nodded, trying on a tiny smile.

"Perhaps, with the excitement of the day, it would be best if you talked to your mother with _out_ Dawn's...commentary," Giles said, softly. He was as tense as the rest, standing in the doorway to the living room and glaring at Spike.

"I don't want to leave her here with this - this thing."

"He's not a _thing_!" Dawn, back from her sulk, standing in the doorway to the bedroom and looking as if she wanted to hit something.

"He's an evil, soulless mass-murderer, Dawn! He's not a - pet! You think he _likes_ you? If it wasn't for that chip in his head, he'd -"

"Slayer," Spike said, and his voice carried all the hatred he was feeling. Everyone in the room froze, even Buffy, and Dawn's eyes were huge, now. "Don't _dare_ presume to tell anyone what _I_ feel." Spike let the demon come back and snarled, knowing that this wasn't exactly helping but hard put to rein in the rage he was feeling.

_*Wouldn't hurt the Niblet - she's practically Xander's little sis. This has to stop - they have to know. Won't take much more of this shite from her and **fuck** , Xander'll be pissed if I kill her*_

Buffy was shifting into a fighting stance, and Dawn was near tears. Tara and Oz were both frozen, and the link was pure wolf now - _*pack*_ was the only thing coherent coming through and Spike knew Oz would be as upset as Xander if - something - happened. The phone rang and they all jumped, and Oz moved jerkily to pick it up.

"Hello?"

_"Let me talk to Giles, Oz."_

Spike could clearly hear Xander's voice, tight with anger, and he relaxed, settling back into his chair and finishing his cigarette, human again. He'd been aware of Xander, through the link, but hadn't realized he was that...upset. Dawn edged out of the doorway, ending up against Tara, who put a comforting arm around the teenager's shoulders. Oz silently handed the phone to Giles, who took it with a look of puzzlement.

"H-hello?"

_"Giles. Please will you take Buffy and go?"_

Giles goggled at the phone, then turned away, lowering his voice. "What are you talking about? Where _are_ you?"

_"I'm at work, Giles, and I can feel how pissed off Spike is from here, which means he is **really** pissed off. So would you please just - go home? Please? I don't want them to fight, Giles."_

"He can't _do_ anything to -"

_"Maybe not. But anything she does to him, she does to me. Like that punch in the mouth. Did you forget about that?"_ A long silence, and Spike heard Giles sigh - saw the hand go up; taking off the glasses, rubbing the forehead. _"I don't want this, Giles."_

"Well, perhaps you should have thought of that _before_ -"

_" **Don't**. Just don't. We need to have a Scooby meeting about this. ASAP."_

Giles turned and looked over at Spike, who was doing his best 'I could kill you but I think I'll wait until tomorrow' stare. The Watcher hesitated, and then slid his glasses back on, clearly unhappy. "You're right. I'll - I'll arrange it. I'll tell you when it's set up."

_"Okay. I'm sorry, Giles. But...I love him. It's not going to change. Try to understand -"_

"I'll call you." Giles hung up abruptly and Buffy looked over at him, puzzled.

"Who was that? And why were they calling you _here_?"

"It was a - contact of mine, just a confirmation on - something - and I wanted to hear it first hand, so to speak." Giles pushed his fingers up under his glasses, rubbing at his eyes.

_*Tired and pissed and it's his own damn fault, this mess. Wonder what he has to 'set up'... Better not be some half-assed plan to get me dusted. I **won't** hold back if they try anything*_ Spike felt the demon fighting to emerge again, and he pushed it back, smoothing it down as if it were a restless dog. _*Not now, not yet. Xander wouldn't like it*_ , he thought, and demon subsided, growling. Buffy had moved to stand by Dawn and Tara and was looking at her sister as if she'd grown another head.

"Buffy - I think perhaps we should go. Dawn is perfectly safe here and - really, has had enough excitement for one day. Oz can bring her home when - when he's ready, can't you, Oz? Not too late."

"Giles -"

"Buffy, please? There really is no harm." 

Buffy stared at Giles for a moment, then looked back at Dawn. "Dawnie -" she said, making her voice soft. Dawn scowled at her.

"Stop it, Buffy. I want to stay. You should be happy you're getting rid of me for a couple more hours. Just because you hate Spike -"

"There's a very good _reason_ why I hate Spike! He's tried to _kill_ me more than once!"

"Yeah, well, you tried to kill him, too! I think you're even! He's - he's Xander's friend, and Oz's friend, too. _They_ don't hate him, and -"

" _They_ are old enough to think for themselves, although right now I'm kinda questioning _what_ they're thinking." Buffy glared over at Oz, who shrugged, not wanting to add to the tension.

"It's so flattering to have all this drama because of _me_ , Slayer, but why don't you listen to your Watcher over there? I can't hurt the Bit, you know that. Let her be."

"Spike, just _shut up!_ " Buffy looked ready to tear her hair out, and Spike couldn't restrain a smirk. He poured another cupful of whiskey and drank it while Buffy looked from Dawn to Giles and back.

"B-buffy, it's really o-okay. I'll s-stay here and we'll just - j-just have pizza and watch some T-TV and then we'll bring her home before d-dark. You had some th-things you wanted to do and I d-don't mind hang-hanging out with Dawn and the guys." Tara could barely meet Buffy's eyes as she spoke, but her soft voice was even and sincere and Buffy took a deep breath and deflated a little, smiling at Tara.

"You did spot Faith when nobody else could figure it out. I guess if you feel - comfortable - I'll have to trust you." Tara blushed bright red at that rather unequivocal statement of trust from Buffy and Spike had to admit to feeling a bit of shock, himself.

_*At least she's showing some sense, trusting Glinda. Wonder how long that will last*_

"Okay, okay. We'll go. And Dawn - you just - just _behave_. And Spike - " Buffy made a move as if to grab him and he put up a hand, warning her off.

"Don't go there again, Slayer. Already said I wouldn't hurt her, and the wolf and Tara are here, anyway. You just toddle along." Buffy glared at him, but after a moment she turned and strode out. Giles shot a look at Spike that was pure Ripper, and Spike grinned at him.

"Ta, mate. You call us, right?"

"Watch yourself, Spike. I'm sure there is some way around what - you've done. And I intend to find it." He turned and followed Buffy, and Spike caught puzzlement and distress from Oz.

He reached for another cigarette. "Don't fret, wolfling," he said, softly, and Oz slumped back into his chair, looking tired. Dawn hadn't seemed to notice what Giles had said - or it hadn't made sense enough to her - and she sat down as well, still scowling.

" _Why_ does Buffy have to be such a - a bitch!" 

"Dawn!" Tara exclaimed, shocked, and Spike sat up and frowned over at Dawn, letting his eyes, at least, show the demon.

"Watch your mouth, Bit. None of that. Big sis is just being - big sis. You know what she's like." 

"How can you _defend_ her! I mean, she _hit_ you! And she's always -"

"That's the way it is, Dawn. She's the Slayer, I'm a vampire. We're never gonna be friends. She didn't hurt me, anyway, and it keeps things - interesting don't you think? This isn't the sodding Brady Bunch, we're not gonna have a row and then be all cozy. Don't fret over it."

"Well, I don't have to like it," Dawn muttered, and picked at her cooling pizza.

"No, you don't, but you bloody well don't have to make it worse, either." Spike hesitated, taking a couple of drags on the cigarette. "How _is_ your mum doing, Bit? I - really do want to know."

Dawn looked uncomfortable, and glanced at Tara for support. "She's - she keeps having these headaches. They didn't find anything that first time she was at the hospital, so now she - she has to go back and get more tests... Buffy says - " Dawn bit her lip, and Tara stroked a hand down her arm, silently encouraging. "Buffy says she's gonna be okay. But now - _Riley_ is sick, too -"

"What's up with Captain Cardboard?" Spike sat up straighter, crushing out the cigarette.

"He - well, when Mom was at the hospital that last time, one of the interns there - his name's Ben, he's really nice - he let me have his stethoscope for a while and I was listening to everybody's heart and Riley's was all - it was way too fast. The doctor said Riley could have a heart attack but he just says it's - it's a left-over from the Initiative and that he'll be okay."

Dawn took a long drink of her soda and Oz looked over at Spike, _*sick*_ coming through, that kind of weed-out-the-weak-ones thing that was purely pack. Spike nodded at him, thinking. "Wonder what the soldier-boys'll do about it..." he mused, and Tara looked at him as well, concern on her face.

"You d-don't think - would he go back to th-them?"

Beside her, Dawn made a face, shaking her head. "No way. He's being real stubborn about it. Says he'll be fine. Buffy's really worried." 

Dawn went back to her food and the phone rang again. Oz rolled his eyes and answered, then handed it off to Spike, a little grin on his face. Spike took it with a twinge of unease. He wondered if he was going to get yelled at. "Hullo?"

_"Love…."_

A sigh came down the line, and Spike got up and went into the bedroom, shutting the door. He heard Tara saying something - distracting Dawn from the oddity of Spike getting a phone call. "Wasn't me, pet. She came in here all pissed, ready for a fight -"

_"I know. But you didn't have to fight back."_

Spike sprawled back on the bed, letting his boots dangle over the edge. "Can't help it, love. She just rankles me. You know that."

_"I know that."_ There was the suggestion of a smile in that, and Spike relaxed.

_*He understands. Course he does*_ "So, pet...what are you wearing?" This time he got an actual laugh.

_"About ten pounds of sawdust."_

"Mmmm...all furry and sweet-smelling, I'll bet," Spike said, in his best bedroom voice.

_"Well, there's definitely a smell... Gimmie one minute, Steve. You okay, Spike?"_

"Huh?" Spike stared at the ceiling. _*What's that mean?*_

_"Well, she..."_ Xander fell silent, and Spike realized what he meant.

"Oh. Well, she took a jab at me, wasn't much. Don't fret over it, pet, it's already healed up."

_"Damnit, **why** does she -"_

"Xander. Don't _worry_ about it. I'd rather talk about what you an' me are gonna do when you get home than the Slayer and her anger-management problems."

_"It's just -"_

"I know, love." A moment’s silence, and then Xander sighed down the line.

_"I gotta go, Spike. I'll be home - around six. Is Dawn still there?"_

"Yeah - and Tara and the wolf. Having some pizza, gonna watch the telly. Nothing to be worried about here. You stop thinking about this, you hear me? I don't want you coming home with extra holes or missing bits, right? I like your bits just like they are."

_"I promise I won't chop off or ventilate anything. Love you."_

"Love you, pet. Hurry home." He clicked the phone off and lay staring at the ceiling for a moment. 

_*Gonna tell the gang. Well, really just Red and the Slayer. And Dawn. Maybe I should tell her now? She'd love to have one up on big sis. Or...maybe not*_ He got up and strolled out to the kitchen. Tara was folding and then stomping on the pizza box so it would fit in the trash, and Oz and Dawn were in the living room, watching MTV.

"So - you got plans with Red today?" Spike asked, and Tara glanced at him, a small smile on her face. 

"W-we're moving into our new room, t-today. Mostly just unpacking boxes and things. We got R-Riley to help move the heavy stuff yesterday."

"Hrmmm..." Spike reached for a cigarette, lighting it and ignoring the tiny moue of disgust that twisted Tara's mouth for a moment.

"Spike." Tara was looking straight at him now, her hands wringing together in front of her, and Spike frowned.

_*What now?*_

"I just - I n-know that you and B-Buffy don't - well, you're not friends or anything -"

"Not hardly, pet. What is it you want to say, eh Glinda?"

"J-just, for D-Dawn's sake could you - try to - get along?"

"Maybe if she'd stop hittin' me every chance she got I wouldn't get quite so - demony." Spike saw the flinch, but saw, also, that the witch took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.

"Y-you're over one hundred y-years old, Spike, maybe you should be the big-bigger person." Tara looked straight at him when she said that, and he just stared at her, utterly shocked.

_*It's a good point. We're stronger than that. Stronger than some bubble-headed blonde mortal. We should be*_

_*Piss off. She -*_

_*You know it would be easier on our boy if we didn't...push*_

_*She's the **Slayer**. She just - makes me - wanna rip her heart out. Through her stomach.*_

_*Yes. But. Xander.*_

_*Oh fuck off*_ Spike realized he'd been staring into space, snarling silently, and that Tara was giving him a 'you're so strange' look. "I - can't help it, Glinda. It just - happens."

Tara looked disappointed, but she nodded her head. "Okay. I j-just wanted to ask."

"Bloody hell, witch! She's the _Slayer_. She gets within a hundred feet of me and I just - it's like ants, or something. Like - " Spike shuddered, aware of Dawn looking at him over the back of the couch, her mouth open.

"Okay, Spike. I just - I just wanted to know."

Tara slipped past him into the living room and Spike smoked furiously, wishing he could go and stomp something. He could feel _*sympathy*_ from Oz, and tried to calm himself down a little. He finished his smoke and went into the living room, flopping down on the couch between Dawn and Oz, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Tara was standing by the bookshelves, looking over Xander's collection of worn sci-fi books and brand-new poetry, and Oz's more eclectic selection of religious texts, classics, and cheap mysteries. Spike had only added a few things to their library - Kipling and Huxley and Dinesen - and he watched Tara run her finger gently down the spine of ‘ _Captains Courageous_ '. 

"Spike!"

"Huh?" Dawn was poking him in the ribs and he batted at her hand irritably. "What, Bit?"

"I asked you, do you think he's good-looking?"

"Who?"

Dawn rolled her eyes and pointed to a group of young men on the TV screen. The song finally resolved itself in Spike's head and he recognized the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

" _Him_. Anthony Kiedis. I think he's cute." 

Spike stared at the dark-haired man on the screen. "Why are you asking _me_?"

Dawn sighed, obviously frustrated. "Because Tara is a lesbian and Oz says the music annoys him too much for him to make a judgment about cuteness." 

Spike looked over at the werewolf, who was smirking into his soda. _*Coward*_ , Spike thought, and Oz slid down on the couch a little more, stretching his feet out to the coffee table and balancing the soda on his stomach.

_*Tasty*_ , Oz thought back, and Spike snorted.

"Spike!" This time Dawn whacked him on the leg and Spike snarled at her, flashing fangs, and she grinned.

"Stop it, Bit!"

"Tell me! Cute, or not?"

"Yeah, cute, I'd shag 'im through the mattress any day. Right? Happy?"

Dawn scowled at him. "What's 'shag' mean?"

Oz doubled up, laughing, and Tara seemed to be having a small fit over the Ezra Pound collection. Spike glared at the VCR.

_*Fuck. Three hours until I can fuck Xander, five hours until I can kill something*_ The video ended, another one started. This time the boys were much glossier and well-groomed, and Dawn made a tiny squeak of pleasure. The titles at the bottom of the TV screen said ‘N’Sync’.

"Now _these_ guys are super-cute. What about these guys, Spike? Would you - uh - shag _them_?"

This time, Tara had to actually leave the room, and Spike's only consolation was that soda out the nose probably hurt even a werewolf.

 

The phone was ringing, and for a long moment Xander thought about ignoring it completely. But he knew he couldn't do that, so he pushed himself up from the kitchen table and went to answer it. Spike and Oz watched him from their places at the table, spoons held still over bowls of Oz's experimental vegetarian chili.

_*Probably the only werewolf on the planet who eats vegetarian*_ "Hello."

_"Xander. It's Giles -"_

"Yeah, kinda obvious there, G-man. You _are_ the only British librarian I know." A snort of amusement from Spike and Xander grinned at him. "What's up? Something new and nasty in town?"

_"Actually - yes. And...I've gotten things organized here, so I'd appreciate it if the three of you could come to the Magic Box tonight. We're going to discuss...things."_

"Things? You mean - me and Spike?"

_"Among other things. Be here at six?"_

"Sure Giles. Six." Xander hung up and sat back down, looking at Spike and Oz who still hadn't touched their food. They looked back at him, spoons at the ready. After a moment Xander crushed a couple of saltines into his chili. The link was _*love you*_ from Spike, and _*pack*_ from Oz, and Xander smiled at them. "Yeah. We'll be okay. Wonder what Giles had to organize?"

"Better not be anything...stupid," Spike muttered, and _*protect mine*_ came through loud and clear, with an accompanying flurry of rather bloody images.

Xander winced and gulped some milk. "Stop that, evil undead. There will be no evisceration or gouging out of eyeballs. Right?"

Spike just rolled his eyes, finally taking a bite of chili and looking contemplatively at the ceiling. "Hrmmph. S'good, wolf. Just needs a little - blood - or something."

"Well, it being _vegetarian_ chili, that would kinda defeat the purpose." Oz ate a mouthful as well and stared down at his bowl thoughtfully. "Although, you're right, a little blood would definitely add something."

"Yeah, like major oogy-ness. It's perfectly...vegetarian, Oz. Very tasty in a...vegetable sort of way." Xander chewed furiously, glad of the saltines.

_*Bastard*_ from Oz, and Xander laughed.

"Pizza?"

"Meat-lovers."

The rest of the dinner hour was spent in a semi-heated argument over which vehicle they should take. Two days earlier Spike had gotten his DeSoto back from the impound lot - Clem, not surprisingly, had a cousin who worked there - and they'd spent the last couple of nights working on it. Or, rather, Spike and Oz had worked on it, and Xander had watched and handed over wrenches (Spike insisted on calling them 'spanners') and held work lights. Cars had never done much for Xander - the _deadness_ of the metal didn't appeal to him, and he didn't understand the workings all that well. He just drove them. Wood, on the other hand, was something entirely different, and he had a twisted piece of driftwood in the back of his truck that he was seriously thinking about carving into...something. 

Manny was being quietly encouraging, and Xander was slowly getting excited about it. And Oz was being encouraging as well - making a couple little comments about how hard it had been to do the 'first time on stage' gig, but then it had all flowed and become natural. Since the claim, Oz was so much more - relaxed, if that were at all possible. The savage intensity had gone out of the hunt - he still did it, and did it well, but it wasn't the whirlwind release of intolerable pressure, now. Now it was - something they did, together, that strengthened the pack and kept the people he loved safe. Xander had asked him if he felt - odd - getting the overflow of his and Spike's link - if he felt odd not getting it _all_. Oz had shrugged, picking a halting tune out on his guitar. 

"I don't mind. I need the quiet, sometimes." he'd said, and Spike had nodded and rubbed his hand briefly across Oz's back, telling him without a sound that that was fine. And he and Spike had privately agreed to try to keep their own thoughts a little quieter.

Spike finally won the vehicle argument by basically threatening to do something nasty to both the van and the truck. And since Xander and Oz could both sense his excitement - he'd hated not having his own transportation - they gave in. Xander felt a little strange sliding into the passenger seat, and he watched Spike operate the push-button dash with interest. Then he just held on for dear life, because Spike had apparently learned to drive when cars had lanterns in the back for taillights and no signals - or brakes, it seemed - and nineteen-fifty-something DeSoto's didn't come with seat belts. The blacked-out windows did _not_ help. Something like _*fuuuuuck*_ from Oz and Spike started laughing and drove a little faster, flipping on the stereo and blasting Alice Cooper into the twilight.

_"I can't go to school cuz I ain't got a gun…_   
_I ain't got a gun cuz I ain't got a job…_   
_I ain't got a job cuz I can't go to school…_   
_So I'm looking for a girl with a gun and a job…_   
_(and a house - with cable)_   
_Don't you know where you are…_   
_(you're) Lost in America..."_

 

The drive to the Magic Box was over too soon, and Xander felt reluctant to exit the car. They sat there, staring at the darkened windows until Spike flicked his cigarette butt out onto the sidewalk with a curse.

 

"Fuck this," Spike snarled. _*Love you pack **mine** *_ hit Xander and Oz both with a ferocity that made them flinch a little. "If any of these wankers tries anything, they're gonna know exactly how I earned my name, 'cause I'm not putting up with any shite from anybody. I mean it, Xander." The demon's glowing stare bored into Xander's own dark gaze.

Xander reached over and cupped his hand around the back of Spike's neck - pulled him close and kissed him, hard and deep. Rested forehead to forehead, _*love you*_ between them, steady as a heart-beat. "I know. Just - try to stay calm, okay? The less bloodshed the better. I'm not real happy about this either, but I can't - I don't want to lie about this anymore. I want them to know, Spike - they're my friends...I want them to know."

"I know, love." Spike sighed and pulled back so he could look Xander in the eye. "Just don't want them making you feel - " Spike stopped talking abruptly, but _*mistake*_ was loud and clear, and Xander kissed him again.

"It's not a mistake. I didn't make any mistake, Spike. I _*love you*_ knew what I was doing."

"Giles said -" Oz spoke quietly, but there was _*fear*_ from him, and Xander turned around in the seat, fingers tangling in Spike's hair. Spike pushed his forehead into Xander's temple and rested there, eyes shut.

"What, Oz?"

"Said there had to be a way around it - around the claim. Said he'd find it." 

_* **Mine** *_ and Xander rubbed his hand over Spike's neck.

_*Yours always love you*_ "Never happen. Fuck, let's get this over with. I just wanna go home." Xander dropped one last kiss on Spike's forehead then got out of the car, mentally and physically stiffening his spine. The hyena was tense and hyper, _*protect pack*_ the only thing it could think, and that same thought was coming from Spike and Oz as well, a trinity of resolution and protectiveness that made Xander grin. The soldier was mentally reviewing what he knew of the shop and checking off exits and possible defensive positions and Xander tried to back him off a little.

_*Not going to fight. Everything's going to be fine. We'll be calm, they'll be calm - no problems. **Stop** that*_ The soldier - dredging up a rather nasty episode from Spike's past for possible tactics - stopped and retreated, muttering.

The three of them walked up to the door, and Xander tapped on the glass. Inside, dimly, he could see a chaos of boxes and packing and building materials, plus assorted cups of take-out coffee and crumpled fast-food bags. There was a light on in what looked like an office, and after a moment Giles emerged, dressed for work in jeans and a pullover sweater. His hair was mussed and he looked tired. He crossed the shop floor and came up the steps, peering out at them, then unlocked the door.

"Good evening Xander - Oz." Spike made a snorting noise of amusement at his deliberate exclusion and they stepped inside, going across a small landing and down a few steps to the back of the store and a table that was lit from beneath. There was a lamp lit on the display case, and more light coming from a back room, making the table area a spot of brightness in the dark shop. A wrought-iron staircase led up to a balcony and Spike settled there, half-way up. Xander sat a couple of steps lower, feeling the merest pressure from Spike's shin at his back. Oz settled on the last step, pulling his knees up and leaning back against the rails. Giles stood for a moment, staring at them, then he turned as the door opened, the little brass bell over the top jangling.

"Giles - are you in here?" Willow came through the door, followed a moment later by Tara.

"Here, Willow."

The girls came over, picking there way in the dimness. "Oh - hey, Xander! And Oz! And - and Spike. Uh - hi, guys." Willow seemed confused to see the three of them and Xander wondered what Giles had told them to bring them here. Tara smiled at them from behind Willow, and Xander felt better for that, knowing there were at least four of them that were….

_*Pack. Light witch is pack*_ Xander didn't really understand the other's utter insistence that Tara was pack - perhaps it had to do with her easy acceptance of himself and Spike, or perhaps her solidly grounded strength and gentleness - her inherent _goodness_ that was like a warm blanket. Xander was glad the others liked her, but still felt amazement at the soldier's admiration and the hyena's protectiveness.

_*She'll side with us, Harris. Probably bring the other one in, too. Now did you notice that back entrance over there -*_

_*Shut up. Yeah, Tara is alright with this... Please, Willow, don't freak on me….*_

_*Pack*_ from Oz, loud and clear, and _*Mine*_ from Spike, a possessive that clearly included the werewolf. Xander felt himself grinning at that - at the love - the _want_ \- that was coming at him. It was….

_*It's like a drug. I could get used to this*_

The bell jangled again and it was Buffy and Dawn, Buffy telling her sister in an exasperated tone not to touch _anything._ Dawn was scowling, lugging a backpack, but her expression immediately lightened when she saw the rest of the group.

"Tara, hey! Hi Willow! Guys!" She bounced to each person, doing a hug and big smile, and Xander could tell she was dong her best to piss Buffy off. He hugged her anyway, and tried not to smirk when Spike scooted over to make room for her on his step.

"Dawn! Come down here!"

"I want to sit up here, Buffy."

"Everyone - please!" Giles said, and they all settled a little, looking at him. "Buffy, why is Dawn here?" Xander could _feel_ the glare practically radiating off of Dawn, and he didn't dare turn around to look.

"It wasn't my idea! Mom was feeling better and she wanted to go out, so I had to babysit her. She could -"

"I'm not a _baby_ , Buffy! I don't need -"

"Hey - Dawn - Buffy - " Xander raised his voice a little, and Buffy looked at him frowning. "How's your mom doing, Buff? I haven't heard much lately. Is she okay?"

Buffy looked lost for a moment, her frown turning into a mask of worry, then she raised a small smile - something that was obviously for Dawn's benefit. "Yeah - you've kinda been out of the loop, huh?" She looked around and moved a box of what appeared to be dried rats off of a chair and sat down. Willow and Tara were finding chairs as well around the lighted table, and Giles leaned against the display case behind him, arms crossed over his chest.

"She - she's been doing a little better but the doctor said - she has to have surgery. They found a - a shadow. In her brain. But he said - " Buffy looked away, towards Giles, who smiled faintly at her. "He said it wouldn't be a big deal, she should be home a few days after the operation. She's going in the day after tomorrow."

"Oh." Xander felt like he'd been punched.

_*Joyce is a trooper. No worries.* That_ thought, from Spike, and Xander's eyes widened in amazement. He looked at Buffy - saw that she looked tired, and that her eyes were shadowed - a little lost.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. But at least - they found something. Now they can fix it and it'll be okay. When, exactly? I'll come by the hospital if...that's okay."

"Sure, that's fine, Xander. She has to go in around nine in the morning. They said...the operation will take a few hours." Buffy smiled at him, then turned her attention to Willow who had reached out a hand.

"We'll be there too, Buffy. I only have two classes then and I'm ahead in the reading for both of them and one of them, the professor kind of repeats himself a lot, and I mean a _lot_ , I think he's kind of senile or something, but I'm sure he has tenure so, what are you gonna do? Anyway - " Willow glanced guiltily around at Tara, who had put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Anyway, I can miss those classes and Tara only has one really early class so we can both be there, okay? Is that okay?"

"Sure Willow, that's fine. I kinda - kinda need to have my family around me." Xander felt a little stab of guilt at that.

_*Haven't been much in the way of family. I should have - should have been around more. I should have worked this out sooner. It's not fair that I assumed they would all... I should have trusted them, they're my friends.*_

_*Calm love you*_ from Spike, and Xander leaned back just a little, to feel the sharp bone of shin and knee press into his back. Oz had shifted ever so slightly and now his shoulder was against Xander's calf, and Xander felt better.

"So - Giles - you found out something about that glowy thing?" Buffy asked.

"What glowy thing?" Xander said, and Giles pulled a glowing, amber-colored sphere from a small box on the display case.

"That glowy thing. I was down by this old warehouse and the night watchman thought I was there for a rave - he thought I'd dropped it or something. And then - the next day - I see the same guy at the hospital only he's gone totally bonkers, like, overnight. I'm thinking that thing has something to do with - something."

"Do you think it made the guy crazy?" Dawn, her voice small and a little scared, and Buffy shook her head.

"Nah - I had it with me all night -"

"Not exactly a fair test, if you ask me," Spike said, and Buffy shot him a nasty look.

"Nobody _did_ ask you, as a matter of fact, so just shut up, Spike."

" _Actually_ , I found out that this is the Dagon Sphere," Giles cut in hastily, obviously trying to avoid a fight. "It was made to protect against an unknown evil. Against 'That Which Cannot Be Named'."

"So we're fighting nameless evil now? Is that better or worse than named evil?" Willow asked.

"Worse, actually." Giles set the sphere down gently into the box and then turned back to them, taking off his glasses to polish them on his handkerchief. "Usually, if a thing was not named, that meant it was an object - or being - of great fear or deep worship. So we must be _very_ careful in investigating the origins of this object."

"Well, just find out what it is and I'll go kill it. I'm going back to that warehouse tonight to see if I can find anything else." Buffy crossed her arms, looking satisfied, and Giles sighed, obviously not happy with that approach.

"We really have a lot of research to do. The accounts of what, precisely, the sphere was used against are vague in the extreme. Please do be extra careful tonight, Buffy."

"Sure Giles. Careful is my middle name." Xander couldn't repress a snort, and Buffy looked over at him, grinning a little. "Okay, so maybe my middle name is more like - Slightly Cautious. I'll be fine."

"Sure you will, Buffy. If you want any back-up - " Xander gestured to himself - to Oz and Spike, and Buffy's smile faltered.

"Uh - I don't think so, guys. I'm still not real happy with the whole 'patrol' gig you've got going. Besides, the less time I have to spend with Fangless there, the better." The growl that rumbled out of Spike's chest was sub-sonic, but Xander knew Buffy could hear it - he watched her stiffen in her chair.

"Feeling's mutual, Slayer." Spike said.

_*Don't don't*_ from Oz, and Xander sent _*calm*_ as hard as he could. Spike shifted on the stairs and then was still, the growl slowly subsiding. The bell jangled again, making them all jump. 

"Hey, sorry I'm late but I was getting ready. I have a date tonight that I'm hoping will lead to orgasms so I wanted to be prepared. Who knew a bikini wax could take so long? Did I miss anything?" Anya bounced down the stairs, smiling, looking sexy in a slinky black dress, and Spike made an appreciative noise down in his throat. "I'll take that as a compliment." Anya said, perching on an unopened packing crate beside Buffy.

Buffy rolled her eyes, looking away.

"Tell her about the 'Thing That Cannot Be Named." Dawn said, then mumbled under her breath: "Maybe I _am_ going to Hogwarts."

"Well, we're up for the research, right Tara? We can do that, Giles." Willow looked around at the chaos of the shop, obviously wondering how research was going to happen _there_. "When's the grand opening?"

"Three more days."

"What are we researching?" Anya asked, and Willow began to fill her in, Buffy adding her own commentary. Giles pushed his hands back through his hair and reached for a cup of tea near the cash register, and Dawn opened her backpack, muttering to Spike about homework on the third day of school and how unfair it was. Willow had just gotten to the 'unnamed evil' bit when Spike suddenly was on his feet and growling loud enough this time for everyone to hear it.

_*Rival protect mine*_ from Spike, and Xander felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something - something was out there. Oz's was head up, listening, his shoulders tense.

"Spike, what the hell are you doing?" Buffy was up, too, looking as if she was going to jump on Spike. The bell jangled as the door opened.

"Ah, Angel." Giles said.

 

Xander _felt_ Spike readying himself for a headlong leap at the older vampire and he turned helplessly on the stair, wondering if his new-found strength would help at all. Spike was game-faced, snarling - unmoving. Dawn had his arm in a death-grip and she was staring with wide eyes at Angel.

"That's the guy who was trying to kill Buffy that time," she whispered, and Spike was awkwardly patting her hair, trying to be comforting and keep an eye on Angel's advancement across the room at the same time.

_*Weird. You'd think she'd remember him being her boyfriend, too. Guess the 'get you and your little dog too' stuff just makes the more lasting impression.*_

"Dawn!" Buffy looked furious - although if it was because of Dawn grabbing onto Spike or Angel's presence, Xander wasn't sure. Angel stopped at the top of the steps that led down to the table area.

"Yeah, Bit, that's the poofter what tried to off your big sis. Wonder what he's doin' here, hey?" Dawn backed up a step, clutching her backpack, and Spike _flowed_ down them, head down and predatory, stalking forward until he ran into Buffy's outstretched hand. Xander was right behind him, hovering.

"Where do you think _you're_ going, Spike?"

"Piss off, Slayer. This is between Peaches an' me."

"Oh no, it isn't - " Buffy started, moving into a fighting stance, and Giles was suddenly there, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Buffy, please. I asked Angel to be here tonight. We have - there's something we _all_ need to...discuss."

"Giles, if this is about that - Dragon thing - Angel doesn't need to be here. I can handle this." Giles shook his head, and Angel came down the last step. The growl from Spike, that had subsided a bit, picked up again, and Buffy and Angel both looked at Spike. 

Xander was sending _*calm calm calm*_ as hard as he could, wondering if he should grab Spike or not. Oz's own _*calm*_ was there as well, as strong as the werewolf could send it. From Spike there was only an inarticulate rage. Angel took one more step and then stopped, frowning. Suddenly he changed, and Xander heard the indrawn breaths of the girls as his demon emerged.

"Spike, what in _hell_ have you done?"

"You know, Angelus. You know. Why bother with bloody 'Twenty Questions'?"

"Giles said - I didn't really believe him. My _God_ …."

Xander honestly couldn't tell if Angel was upset or dumbstruck - after a moment the demon subsided and Angel just stood there, staring at Spike. _*And I guess that's dumbstruck. Looks kinda like pissed off. Or happy. Sheesh. He needs little signs or something around his neck*_

"Giles - _why_ is Angel here? And what has Spike done?" Buffy was still standing between the vampires, and Giles still had his hand on her shoulder.

"Please - all of you. Sit down." Buffy sent a searching look over the Watcher's face and then retreated a step or two to her chair. Angel backed up, not taking his eyes off Spike, and settled slowly onto the steps. Oz relaxed back against the rails again, and Dawn stayed where she was, nearly at the top of the wrought-iron stairs, her eyes huge. Willow and Tara hadn't moved, and Anya appeared to be checking her lipstick. Xander reached and carefully put his hand on Spike's arm - tugged at him.

"Spike - come on. Sit down with me. Spike?" The vampire was like iron - immovable - and Xander tugged harder. "Spike -"

"Feels a little like a set-up, doesn't it? Like the Watcher here is plannin' on doin' something... stupid. Are you plannin' something bloody stupid, Ripper?" Spike's voice was low and deadly and Giles retreated hastily, backing into the counter and freezing there.

"It's not a set-up, boy." A snarl from Spike and Xander got in front of him, blocking his view of Angel - putting his hands on either side of Spike's face and forcing the lambent gold gaze to meet his.

" _Spike_. It's okay. Come and sit down, love, please?" There was a moment of stunned silence, and Xander knew, _knew_ what he'd done. Didn't care. He had to get this out - and had to stop any escalation. He didn't want a fight. _*Please please*_

The demon subsided, and the look Spike had on his face was delight and amusement. He knew, too.  
"Alright, pet. For you." He smirked, and Xander smiled back, and then Spike turned and leapt lightly up three steps and settled there. Xander turned around - met the stunned gazes of Buffy and Willow.

"Xander - Xander I can't believe - did you just -" Buffy was on her feet again, her eyes huge and wounded and her voice quivering. "Somebody better explain this to me, because I think - I think I've lost it."

"Buffy - you haven't lost it. Just - calm down -"

"Calm _down_? Did you tell me to calm down? Did you just - you were just _touching_ Spike. Like you touch - like you _like_ him. You called him _love_. Am I _right_ , or am I really going crazy - Giles, is that Dragon Sphere making me crazy?" Buffy's voice was getting higher, a little hysterical, and Xander moved towards her, putting out his hand. Buffy jerked away.

"Buffy - come on. You've just got to - just take a breath, okay? Buffy?" Behind her, Xander could see Tara whispering in Willow's ear - could see Willow's hands clasped in Tara's, holding tight.

"Xander - Xander are you really - Tara says you and Spike are - are you really? Are you in love? Xander, _what is going on?_ " Tara put her forehead gently to Willow's hair, and Willow blinked and took a breath.

"I'll tell you - I've wanted to tell you for a long time, Willow. I never meant to - to keep this from you. _Never_. It just... I was so afraid." Xander felt his voice cracking, and _*love you love you*_ from Spike, warm and soft, _*calm*_ from Oz, and Xander blinked and sniffed.

"Scared? Well, what are you scared of, Xander? I mean - what did Spike do to you? Did he do something to you? I mean, is that why we're here, Giles, Spike did something to Xander and we have to - have to fix it?" Willow looked near tears herself, and Xander heard Giles heave a sigh somewhere behind him.

"No, Willow, we're not here to do anything _to_ Xander, or for him. We need to - we all need to sit down and talk."

Buffy had been looking back and forth between Willow and Xander, and now she stalked around Xander towards Spike - stopped, confused, when Oz slowly stood up, his eyes shifting to black and then back. "Oz - that is really - why are you doing that?"

"Just back off, okay? Listen." Oz said, softly, and Buffy slowly pushed her hands back through her hair, gripping it and pulling just a little.

"God, I - fine, fine. I'll listen. We'll listen, Willow, and then we'll... I don't know what we'll do." She went back to her chair, sinking down, and Xander finally did the same, settling one step below Spike and sighing softly when Spike began to gently comb his fingers through Xander's hair.

_*Love you*_

"Something happened in Oxnard that I didn't tell you about. That has a lot to do with what's going on right now." Xander launched into his story, telling them what happened to Thomas - telling them about Jack. Watching the mingled looks of bewilderment and anger and sympathy and pain wash over the faces of two of his best friends in the world. When Xander talked about Jack's gift, Angel made an inarticulate sound, and when Xander glanced over at him he was staring, open-mouthed. Xander went on - talked about Spike - about Parent-Teacher night and how the vampire had somehow lodged himself in Xander's brain. How he'd seen the love, and the despair, and the _heart_ of the demon. The man. By the time he was done, Willow had a look of wonder on her face, her eyes bright with something that might have been tears. Tara was studying him, looking intrigued, and Anya looked thoughtful. Dawn had slipped down the stairs and was sitting next to Spike again.

"That's - it, I guess. About - well, almost two weeks ago we - we made it permanent. With a spell. A claim. Now we're just...we're each others. I love him, guys. He loves me. I'm happy." Spike had never once stopped his gentle caress of Xander's hair and head, and now he leaned forward and gently pressed a kiss to Xander's temple.

_*Love you mine always*_

_*Always love you love you*_ Xander thought back. Something like pride radiated from Oz and Xander brushed his knuckles over the werewolf's shoulder, happy to be done - happy that some of the room was happy for him - maybe for _them_ , although he wasn't expecting it.

"Demons don't have souls, Xander." Buffy's voice was stern - sure of herself - but her eyes held doubt.

"Except that they do. And I can see them. And Spike has a soul. Two, actually. The demon _and_ the human."

"I'm g-glad you t-told us, Xander. I'm - I'm happy for the both of you." Tara smiled shyly at him, and Willow started, smiling a wobbly smile at the blonde.

"Can you see - is it alright, Tara? Are they alright?"

"They're...it's beautiful, Willow. Really -"

"Oh _God_! Are you - are you really okay with this, Willow? Really?" Buffy was on her feet, pacing, and Spike stiffened, the growl vibrating through the tips of his fingers as he rested them on Xander's shoulders.

"Well, I mean, if Tara says it looks alright, Buffy, and - and I guess Oz knows - has known for a while - I mean, Xander's _happy_ Buffy, I can see he is -"

"Willow! That's _Spike!_ The guy who _kidnapped_ you and threatened to put a broken bottle through your face! This isn't - this isn't _right_ , Willow!"

"What's _wrong_ with it, Buffy?" Xander flinched back a little from the furious gaze Buffy turned on him, and _*protect mine*_ coming in hard from Spike, making him twitch away from that, too.

"Everything is wrong with it, Xander! You went from being all hot for Cordelia to gay, which is - which is fine, that's your thing now, fine, but now you love a _vampire?_ "

"You did too, once, Buffy." Xander ignored Angel's flinch at that, though Buffy glanced at him. "Is it so hard to understand?"

"Angel is _different_ , Xander, and you know it. He has -"

"A soul?" Buffy's mouth snapped shut and she frowned. "Like I said, Spike does too. And it's as shiny and pretty and _real_ as your soul is. As real as any human I've looked at."

Buffy threw her hands up in a gesture of frustration and started pacing again. "What kind of soul lets someone murder innocent people, Xander? What kind of soul lets someone kidnap a girl or - or torture someone or -"

"The same kind of soul that burned little kiddies with napalm and convinced a thousand people to drink cyanide Kool-Aid in the soddin' jungle somewhere and made the whole of Romania into a Bosch canvas. A human soul, Slayer. Just like yours." Spike's voice was low and even and calm, and Buffy stared at him as if he were a statue come to life.

"Don't - don't try to make out like you're - like you're some kind of _saint_ , Spike, like you're somehow better or - or _different_. You're _not_. You're evil, and you'd kill every person in this room if that chip weren't in your head and we all know it - you've told us enough times!" Buffy looked around, as if for a weapon, and suddenly Angel stood up.

"Buffy. Stop." She looked at him - ignored him, her eyes bright with tears, her hands groping among the piles of books and boxes on the table. "Buffy - he _is_ different. He always has been. This is - this is crazy, I agree. And I don't like it. But do you really think Xander's making this up? About the soul?"

"I don't know what I think, Angel!" Abruptly she sat down, and Angel stepped closer to her. She flinched away and he stopped, looking at her sadly. "I don't _know_ what to think! Xander _hates_ vampires - he _hates_ Spike - or at least, he used to! And now suddenly they're - they're what, _married_ or something? Giles, what is this - claim, what does it mean?"

Giles, who had been rubbing his forehead, silent all this time, raised his head and pushed his glasses back. 

"I don't know the specifics, Buffy - I was hoping that Spike would tell us about it. But from what I _do_ know, and from what Angel tells me... It's a link. A link through magic and through...blood. It is permanent, Buffy."

"Are you _sure_ , Giles?" Buffy's voice was soft - thick with unshed tears.

"Yes, I am. Of that I _am_ sure. The only real way to break the claim would be for one of them to die, and that would mean that the other would, as well. That's - part of the spell."

"It's true, Buffy." Angel added, his voice low and strained.

"Oh _God_ \- Xander! You let him - you let him do some _spell_ on you that...that ties you to him? That will _kill_ you if he dies? Xander, how _could_ you?"

"Jesus, Buffy -" Xander closed his eyes for a long moment, then stood up, going over to where Buffy sat helplessly twisting her hands together. Angel still hovered there, mute now and just as helpless. Xander crouched down, putting his hand gently on Buffy's. She looked down at him, her eyes impossibly huge, impossibly hurt. Behind him, he could hear Dawn whispering something and Spike answering, low rumble.

"This spell - I can hear what he's thinking, Buffy - I can feel it. I know everything about him. I got - all his memories, when we did the spell. I know what he was like before he was turned. I know about the time he spent with Darla and Angelus," brief glance upward at Angel, who looked grim, "and with Drusilla. I know...what the Initiative did to him. I know _everything_. I know exactly what he's feeling, Buffy - about me, about you... And it's the same for him. He - loves me. _Me_. All my life - I've been second, Buffy. My parents barely acknowledged me, when they weren't…. And I had exactly two friends at school, Buffy - and I had to _kill_ one of them. And then - with you, and the Slaying... I was never - I was never really needed, you know?" Buffy was shaking her head, and Xander squeezed her hands, stopping the words he knew she was going to say.

"It's true, Buffy. You know it is. I never felt like I was really part of anything. I was always one step behind - always the - the last resort. I'm first with him, Buffy. And the best part is that I _know_ I am. He tells me - every minute of every day. I can _feel_ it. I'm happy." Xander stopped, ducking his head for a moment, then looking over at Willow.

"Guys, I never - I never wanted to keep this from you. But I was so scared that you wouldn't understand. That you'd just - that you'd think it was just some mess I'd gotten into, that you'd have to fix somehow. And I was scared you'd tried to kill Spike."

"Xander - I don't...understand... He's tried to _kill_ you - all of us - " Buffy sniffed, sniffed again, then snatched irritably at the handkerchief that Anya thrust over her shoulder. Anya grinned at Xander and glanced at her watch, eyebrow raised.

"I know he did. Fuck, Buffy, he's a _vampire_ , what d'you expect him to do? We tried to kill him right back. That's just - the way it is. I mean - _Angel_ \- he tried to send the world to hell, Buffy, but here he is, still around."

"That's _different_ -"

"Is it? It's not to me. Spike...is different, Buffy. When I look at him - I can see the love. I can see his soul, I can see his heart, and there's so much there... He's nothing like the vamps you dust every night, Buffy - I've looked at them, too. And I've - looked at your soul, Buffy. I _know_ you - know all of you." Xander stood up, his knees popping, and paced back to the steps. Spike was watching him; immobile, iconic. The link was silent except for the faint _*pack*_ from Oz, and Xander stood there looking at Spike, his gaze going over and over the line of cheekbone and jaw, eye socket and lips. Archaic somehow, that face. Holding secrets the others would never know. Holding Xander's heart and happiness in the steady, calm regard of eyes too blue to be real.

"You're my best friends, guys. I want you to understand more than anyone else what this means. I'll do anything to convince you - anything at all." The link surged open.

_*Beautiful boy mine my own always always always*_ and Xander gasped - smiled - sent his own love and want back, warmed by the flood of emotion. The others were talking now - Buffy questioning Angel, Willow and Tara talking again, Anya rather loudly announcing that her date started in thirty minutes and Giles trying to question Angel as well, crossing over to him and pointing to something in a book.

Spike just smiled, his gaze never leaving Xander's face, and Xander smiled back - stepped forward and took the vampire's face gently in his hands and kissed him. He meant for it to only be a soft, quick kiss, but once he'd started he found he couldn't stop - couldn't pull away, and he knelt on the step and lost himself in Spike. In the taste of smoke and blood and cloves, in the cool fingers that twined through his hair and gently held him - in the rush of emotion that throbbed through the link. Dimly he could hear the others falling silent - could feel Oz, who was carefully _not_ intruding. Finally, finally, they pulled away from each other, and Spike was smiling that real smile at him. He heard a small sound behind him and knew the others had seen it.

_*Oh God, I love him...so much. And they have to know - they have to see...he is...all. Everything.*_

_* My love, my own...my Spike. Always love always.*_

"Man." Dawn broke the silence, breathy little exclamation, and Xander grinned at her - turned on the step and sat back down. He leaned back into the vampire's embrace, and smiled at the room.

"What will convince you guys? That this is - nothing bad?"

"That was pretty good - you could do that again," Anya said. The ex-demon looked a bit - flushed.

"No, they couldn't" Buffy frowned at them. "I want to know - I want to know if this is why you're out patrolling on your own, Xander. If this is why you've been - avoiding us all. I want to know about this spell, and I want to know...about souls." Buffy's look was hard - determined - and Xander nodded.

"Okay, Buffy. We've been avoiding you because - because when you're around Spike you tend to hit him. Or threaten to kill him. And I - I can't stand that. So that's one reason. That, and lying to you guys just felt...wrong. I didn't want to lie, so it just seemed easier to...avoid having to say anything. We patrol because - because we _need_ to. Spike really is being the Master here - he's cleared out three different demons who had plans for the Hellmouth, and we've gotten rid of a lot of the minions and fledges left over from - well, from the Master and from all that mess right before graduation. Oz and I - we both have something in us that needs that - the hunt. And you _know_ Spike does. We're doing good, out patrolling. I've still got a lot of the hyena in here - it needs to kick some ass, sometimes." 

Willow looked alarmed at that, and Xander smiled at her. "Don't worry, Willow - I'm in control of all this. You can ask Giles. I won't be eating any pigs or anything."

Spike snorted at that, and Dawn made an 'eewww' noise.

"What about the spell, Xander?" 

"Spike knows more than me." Spike shifted behind him - digging in his coat, and Xander heard the _snick_ of his Zippo.

"Where did you get this spell, Spike? Where'd you learn about it?" Angel took a step towards them and Xander glared at him _*rival*_ coming from Spike and Oz both _*mine*_ from himself.

"You remember Greyson, Angelus? He taught it to me."

Angel frowned. "Greyson? I remember hearing about him. He - he had a claim on a woman. _He_ taught you the spell?"

"Me and Dru, we met up with him in Casablanca. Him and his own. We liked each other. He told me about it - taught me the spell."

"What happened to them?" Xander could feel Spike shrug - watched smoke eddy around beside him and marveled that Giles hadn't said a word.

"Dunno. They left Morocco when we did. Margaret had family in Poland she wanted to find - some great-niece or something. Last I heard." 

Angel frowned. "So what else did the spell do? Besides the link - the memories?"

_*Tell?*_ from Spike, and Xander thought about it for a minute.

"Sure, tell 'em," he said, and Buffy frowned.

"Makes it so Xander's…stronger. He won't get sick. He won't drop dead from a heart attack or get cancer or…anything like that. He'll live…as long as I do. He won't age." The room was utterly silent at that, and Xander felt that familiar surge of excitement and anxiety when he thought about decades - _centuries_ \- with Spike.

_*Let me be enough for that - for forever*_

_*Always enough*_ softly, and Spike's fingers at the nape of his neck.

"Wow. You're - you're never gonna die, Xander?" Dawn scooted down the steps to sit beside him, and Xander put his arm around her shoulders.

"Dunno about that, Dawn, but if I'm real careful I'll live a long, long time." Dawn was staring at him - her eyes flickered, dropped for a minute - and then she was tugging at the neck of his t-shirt.

"Xander! What's this? Did - what's this scar?" Her fingers brushed the claim mark and Xander fought the shiver it sent through him.

"It's my - claim mark, Dawn. Spike has one too."

Buffy shot to her feet and stalked over - bent down to stare at Xander's neck. "Spike _bit_ you? _How_ could he do that, Xander?" She looked at him and her eyes got wide. "Is the chip - not working?" She took a step back, and looked as if she might just snatch up a chair and break it apart for a weapon.

Spike's laughter stopped her, and she scowled at him. "That piece of military fuckin' hardware reads _intent_ , Slayer. I don't _want_ to hurt him - and he isn't _being_ hurt. So - I can bite him."

"Xander!"

"Relax, Buffy. It's not a big deal. He's not going to kill me or anything."

"But if he can bite you he _could_. He could turn you!"

"Not against his will, Slayer. So shut it." _* **Mine** *_ and Oz flinched.

Xander put on hand on Spike's calf - squeezed a little. _*calm calm calm*_

"Spike, I'm gonna -"

"No, you're not, Buff. Come _on_!" Xander stood up and went to stand in front of Buffy. "Listen - we came here tonight so we could tell you about us - about my gift, about his soul - about the claim. And Spike's been helping us - been a part of the team for _months_. I would really like it, Buffy, if you could just _stop_ with the death threats now, okay? You're _not_ going to kill him, because that would kill _me_."

Buffy's eyebrows went up, her mouth a grim, thin line, and Xander took a deep breath, trying for calm. He didn't want a fight. He didn't know - he truly didn't know - if Buffy could take Spike if they fought, now. Spike had everything to lose and some payback to dish out, and Xander, going through and through all of Spike's memories of the other times the vampire had fought Buffy, had come to the conclusion that only luck had kept Buffy alive the few times they'd really battled. Spike was _good_. And he knew things about fighting Buffy never would. And he hated, passionately. And loved passionately. And he wouldn't hesitate, where Buffy actually might. And he wouldn't stop. And more than anything, Xander was afraid that if Spike and Buffy fought, and Spike won...Xander would be able to take it in stride. The notion that he might actually not hate Spike, even a little, if he managed to kill one of his best friends...was terrifying.

_*She's the Slayer. As she's so fond of saying. It's her job - her destiny. She kills, and is killed. Nature of war - nature of life. Can't change it.*_

_*I know that. But I don't want to be the reason she dies. I **won't**. I don't want him to fight her. I don't want to….*_

_*Don't want to face yourself. Us. We don't care. Not ours. Not pack. If she hurts what's ours, she dies.*_

_*She's my friend. One of my very best friends. I don't want her to die. I don't want...don't want to lie down every night with her killer. If I do - if I do and it means nothing...then...I'm not me, anymore, am I? Not me, and not...right. I just want - just want them to understand, so I can have some happiness. I just want to be selfish and for nobody to die over this. Is that too much to ask?*_

_*Might be. She's...stubborn. She thinks she knows right from wrong and...you know she doesn't. No more then anyone else does. You've **seen** her.*_

_*Yeah. Maybe I should...*_

_*Not pack **not pack** *_ The hyena was scared, and so turned belligerent. Xander tried to soothe it. And then Spike's fingers, gently cupping his face, turning his head, and Xander came back to himself abruptly, blinking into the azure gaze that looked at him with concern and love.

"You in there, pet?"

"Huh? Yeah. I - I was just..."

"I know. I think you might need to be _here_ though, for a bit." Spike smiled at him, and Xander nodded - turned back to Buffy who was staring with something like amazement at Spike.

"Please, Buffy? I know you guys aren't friends - never will be. But…I love him. So please just - don't make it hard to be around you, okay? I don't want to lose your friendship over this. I don't want to have to…choose." There was a shocked gasp from Willow, and Xander looked over at her, feeling guilt but knowing...had had tell them the truth about this.

"Xander? You'd do that? You'd -"

"I _love_ him, Willow. He's - part of me. Forever. It's never going to go away, or change. I just - I just want to be selfish and have _all_ of you, okay? I want all of you." Xander scrubbed his hands over his face - looked up and Willow was right there. She flung her arms around him and hugged, _hard_. Then she let go, and smiled up at him.

"You've still got me, Xander - we'll always be friends. I think - it's kinda weird, you know? I mean - you hate vampires! Well, obviously not _all_ vampires, but… Tara says it's okay - she says she can see your auras and its…great. I can too, a little - I'm not as good at that as she is -" Willow shot a fast, smiling glance over at Tara, who ducked her head. "But I can see enough. And Spike - " Willow straightened her shoulders - took a deep breath. Obviously steeling herself for something. "Spike - I have s-something to tell you. If you ever hurt Xander - at all - I will hunt you down and beat you to death with a - a _wooden_ shovel. Got it?"

Xander gaped into her 'resolve' face, and almost laughed aloud at the _*whooo!_ * of admiration from Oz. Spike's own thoughts were _*amusement*_ and _*rival*_ and Xander shivered a little.

"Fair enough, Red. Just remember - it cuts both ways. Anything touches what's mine, and it won't live to see another day. Or - who knows? Maybe it'll live just long enough to wish it'd never been born." _That_ voice, low and measured and utterly serious, and Xander shivered all over.

_*William the Bloody, oh fuckin' yeah*_

"Well, all this testosterone and estrogen is really great and all, but I'd rather be having hormone surges in the back seat of a Jaguar XJ6. Xander - Spike - I'm glad you finally came out to everybody, and that soul thing... " Anya shook her head - grinned at them. "Mr. Giles, I'll be here Monday morning to get your accounts set up. Goodnight!" Anya hopped off the packing crate, smoothed her dress down, and marched out. Everyone stared after her for a moment, and then Dawn sighed.

"Does this mean I have to do homework still?"

"Of course it does," Buffy said, automatic, and Dawn stuck her tongue out. "I still want to ask a few questions, Xander. About souls." Buffy looked - troubled - and Xander wondered what she would ask. Was pretty sure he knew.

"Tara? Do you think you could take Dawn home? She really _does_ have homework. And - Oz? Could you go with them? I think some - some wolfman muscle might be a good idea." Buffy smiled at Oz, and he stood up, grinning back.

"Sure, Buffy. I hope you're okay with this. They're really - just fine."

"I think I'll just…wait and see." Buffy glanced over at Angel and then looked away. 

Spike came down the steps, shepherding Dawn. "See you later, Bit. Wolfling - you be careful. _*Protect pack*_ I found out who killed the owner."

"Who?" Giles asked, and Xander turned to look at Spike, wondering the same. Spike took a last drag off his cigarette and grinned.

"Harmony. She's got her some minions. Told me she was the Slayer's number one nemesis and that she was gonna take her out."

" _Harmony_?" Buffy stared at Spike, her mouth twitching, then she took a deep breath and _laughed_ , startling everyone. " _That's_ the new gang in town? Oh my God. _Harmony_. That is just…" Buffy kept laughing and Giles frowned at her.

But Xander couldn't fight back a grin, and neither could Willow or Oz. Tara just looked puzzled, and so did Angel. "She's just - not the sharpest crayon in the box," Xander said, by way of explanation, and Buffy snorted, putting her hand over her mouth.

"Understatement of the year! Who would be stupid enough to turn _her_? Can you imagine listening to her babble on about fashion and makeup for eternity? Vacuous tramp." Willow said, laughing now too, and Spike snorted in amusement at that. 

Dawn reluctantly smiled, looking at Buffy. "So she's not really very bad?"

"Oh, she's bad. Bad clothes, bad makeup, bad attitude." Buffy sniggered and Xander wondered if he should tell her about Harmony's soul. Decided not to. He really doubted Buffy would stake their old schoolmate.

"You guys go on - I'm gonna talk to Xander for a little bit and then go check out that warehouse again. In bed by ten, Dawn! Don't make mom come home and find you awake." 

"Sheesh, Buffy, I'm not six! I know when bedtime is." Dawn rolled her eyes and slung her backpack over her shoulder, and she and Tara and Oz headed out. Angel had wandered off into a corner and was examining a book, and Willow abruptly sobered, looking at Xander.

"Are you gonna - ask about souls, Buffy?" She said softly, and Buffy looked at Xander too.

"Yeah. I am. I just… I just need to know…some things. Okay, Xander?"

"Sure, Buffy. Let's - go in the back here. Private."

"Yeah. You too, Willow." Buffy looked over at Giles. "Is that okay, Giles?" The Watcher straightened from examining the Dagon Sphere and took off his glasses, looking at Buffy with concern.

"Of course it is, Buffy. Xander has…used his gift, with me. I think - it would be a good idea."

"Okay. Deep dark secrets revealed. Yay." Buffy smiled at Giles, but the smile was a little wobbly, and Xander put his arm around her shoulders, feeling how fragile she was - how small.

_*So much weight on these shoulders. I hope…she can bear it all*_

_*Love you*_ from Spike, and Xander nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. _*Love you too*_

"Come on, Buff. I promise I won't tell anybody who you _really_ had a crush on in tenth grade." Buffy smiled at him, and Willow took his other hand, and they walked into the back room of the Magic Box.

 

__________________________

Alice Cooper - _Lost in America_


	19. Reveal

The back room had been mostly cleared, and there were a couple of padded work-out mats stacked against one wall. Xander grabbed one and Buffy grabbed another and they spread them on the floor - settled cross-legged in a circle. Buffy looked scared and Willow looked nervous, and Xander took a deep breath, trying to settle his own nerves.

_*Wonder if leaving Spike out there with deadboy and Giles was a good idea?*_

_* Calm, love, calm*_

_*Amusement*_ from Spike, and _*protect mine*_ and Xander sighed.

"Something wrong, Xander?" Willow asked, and Xander shook his head.

"Not really. Just - I hope Spike and Angel don't - you know. Fight."

"Oh." Willow looked towards the doorway, frowning. "Yeah. Me too. Maybe Giles will - keep them calm?"

Xander snorted. "Fat chance. He's okay right now. So long as Deadboy doesn't do anything stupid."

"Right. Like Spike could take on Angel." Buffy gave a dismissive flick of her hand, and Xander frowned at her.

"Actually, he probably could. Angel isn't - at his full strength, you know? Pig's blood and all. Spike's got some damn good moves. One time in Istanbul -"

"Xander - please. I don't want to hear any gory tales from the crypt." Buffy held up her hand, stopping him, then frowned. "Isn't it kinda…creepy to have his memories in your head? To have _him_ in your head?"

"No - not creepy. I don't remember everything _all_ the time. The first couple of days I did. And he did too. We couldn't even leave the house. It was crazy. It was like - this big movie, just playing out in my head. But now…" Xander shrugged. "I have to really _want_ to remember - to _try_ , like you would if you were trying to remember…French or something." Buffy groaned, and Xander and Willow both smiled. "I know what he was like before he was turned. And I know how much he loves me. It more than makes up for any…creepiness."

Willow looked intrigued at that, if still a little uncertain, and Buffy looked down at her hands, picking at her nail polish.

"I don't…know if I can be happy for you, Xander - not right away. Spike is - the enemy, to me. I mean, I know with that chip and everything he can't… But I just don't _trust_ him, Xander."

"I know, Buffy. Just - if you _try_ , that'll be enough, for now. Okay? Just try?" Xander looked at her hopefully, and she smiled finally, nodding.

"I'll try. Just - keep that wooden shovel in mind." She rubbed her hands up her arms, and her smile faded. "About this soul-seeing stuff…"

"Yeah. Are you sure you want me to? I mean - it's pretty private, what I can see. I only looked the one time."

"When did you?" Willow asked, and Xander shifted a little, looking at her.

"Thanksgiving. When you guys were arguing about the Chumash spirits. I just wanted to know…and you were both there. I've _seen_ Tara, too. And Oz - everybody, I guess. Except Dawn. I - haven't _seen_ her. Too much teenage angst."

Willow giggled and Buffy rolled her eyes. "No kidding. She's just so -"

"So _fourteen_. Isn't it awful?" Willow cut in, and Buffy smiled at her.

"Okay, okay. I won't go off about Dawn. More important things to do here. Go ahead and - and look, Xander, or whatever you do. I really want to know what you see."

"Okay," Xander said, and he reached out and touched her hand. "It'll be fine. _Taisbean_." The _seeing_ shimmered to life, and Xander smiled. Buffy's soul was intensely white - the power of the Slayer shining like a beacon. Her own features shifted and morphed into the features of the other Slayers - all of them, from the First to the girl who had died and made Buffy the One - a shifting so rapid and random it made Xander a little dizzy. The sparks - the _life_ \- that danced around and through her were white as well. But there was darkness there - black and bloody red, like slashes across her, and Xander looked for a long moment - _felt_ \- as well.

_*Love, for himself - for Willow. For all of them, strongest for her mother and Dawn. Loyalty and a fierce protectiveness to match Spike's. Guilt - for times she felt she had failed them - failed herself. Fear for them, and a mistrust of Spike that was tinged with the smallest bit of guilt. Loneliness. Jealousy - for what Willow had. For what **he** had, with Spike. Longing for that for herself. Angel was all tangled up in that longing. Desperate desire to just be **herself** \- just be Buffy and not the Slayer - not the One. And resolve - a stubborn resolve to **be** the One - to handle it, to **take** it - to keep them all safe. One girl in all the world… Another fear - hidden and pushed away behind walls, but still there. A fear that she would never have anyone - that she would always be alone - that she would die that way. That somehow…she was incapable of love…of being loved*_

Xander took in a hard breath - reached and took Buffy's cold hands in his. She was looking at him with trepidation, and he smiled a small smile at her.

"I can see how much you love your family, Buffy - how much you love all of us. How much you would do to keep us safe. Your power - the Slayer power - is like…a bright, white light. It just makes you _glow_. And _you_ glow - your love and your loyalty. All the Slayers are there in you - _all_ of them… And your…loneliness. And…your love for Angel."

Buffy gasped, and there were tears in her eyes. Xander dropped his voice down almost to a whisper. "You aren't alone, Buffy - you _aren't_. We're here for you - we can help you, if you let us. And…you're so love-worthy, Buffy. There's so much _in_ you to love. Please don't think that you're…not worthy."

Tears slipping free, tracking down her face, and she leaned across the space between them and hugged Xander hard. He hugged back, stroking her back, feeling hot tears fall onto his neck. Then she pulled away and swiped at her eyes, sniffing.

"Where's Anya and her handkerchiefs when you need one?" she said, shakily, and Xander smiled at her. "God, Xander…I - I'm glad you're my friend. Thank you for - telling me."

"You're welcome. And - I'm telling you the truth, Buffy. Always telling the truth about what I see. You really are…a special person. And I don't mean the Slayer stuff."

Buffy sniffed again - squeezed his hand. "You are too."

Beside him, Willow shifted a little and Xander looked over at her. "Wow. He's right you know, Buffy. We'll do whatever we can to help - you can count on us." Willow smiled softly at Buffy and Buffy patted her hand.

"Yeah. I know. I just…don't want you guys to be hurt taking on _my_ job. But…" A quick, smiling glance at Xander. "I'll _try_ , I promise." Xander grinned at her - looked over at Willow, who swallowed nervously.

"Okay. Me now, I guess, huh?"

"Yeah, you." Xander smiled at his oldest friend in the world, and _saw_ her. Willow's soul was like sunlight - brilliantly golden with a fiery scarlet edge. The sparks that whirled around and through her were gold and red and black. And there were black lines through the gold, as well; coiling and almost alive.

_*Her power. It's…older than she is. Darker. Stronger than she knows.*_ Willow's power made Xander nervous, and the hyena growled somewhere down in the bottom of his mind _*not pack*_ Xander shushed it and concentrated on Willow again.

_* Oh… Love again - so much love - and bubbles of happiness for him. Even though it was Spike that made him happy, she was glad he wasn't alone any more. And there was…fear. Fear that she wasn't smart enough. Or strong enough, or just…not **enough** , for anybody - anything. Fear that she would let them all down. And a desire, so strong, to **know** and to **do** and to **learn** \- a desire for more that was as fierce as Buffy's protectiveness. And through it all, like a thread of purest silver, was Tara - lifeline and grounding wire all in one.*_

"Wow - you really love Tara, don't you, Willow? You're all gold and red, but - your magic is there and it's…its dark. It's so _strong_. You have to be - careful, Willow. Be careful with it." Xander saw her frown - then nod, and he hoped she would listen to him. "And, Willow - you _are_ enough. You're good enough and smart enough - you always have been. Don't doubt yourself."

Willow smiled at that - a shaky smile, and she wiped at her eyes a little. "You could see Tara in me?"

"Oh yeah - she's…all through you."

"Oh." Willow's smile got bigger, and then she, too, leaned forward and hugged him. "I just - get so scared sometimes, Xan. I mean - I feel like I just never know _enough_ , you know? The more I learn, the better I can help you guys - help Buffy - and sometimes it just seems like I won't ever have enough magic to do _anything_. The magic's...all I've got."

"Hey - don't be silly, Willow. You're more than the magic. You're the big gun in the Scooby gang!" Buffy joined the hug, and they all sat there for a minute, just enjoying the closeness.

Xander could hear Giles' voice in the other room - Angel's as well, both a little loud. The link was full of _*anger hate protect **mine** *_ and Xander was about to jump up when he felt something else. It was vague - barely there - but it was _*fear*_ and it was clearly from Oz. Xander pulled away from the girls. _*What's wrong what's wrong*_ to Spike, and the vampire was _there_ , in the doorway, looking pissed and anxious at the same time.

"Xander, it's -"

"Oz - yeah. Fuck."

"Oz? What do you mean? Is - is something wrong with Dawn? I didn't hear the phone-" Buffy was climbing to her feet - Willow was - and Xander just sat there, staring at Spike, trying to _feel_ what was wrong. Out in the shop, the phone started to ring, and Spike cursed. His souls were entwined - almost one - and the human part seemed to be soothing the demon - distracting it. Xander jumped up, hearing Giles saying something in a voice that was tight with anxiety and they all hurried out to the other room. Spike was snarling a little, baleful golden eyes staring at the Watcher, and they all waited while he finished speaking and hung up the phone.

"That was Tara. Apparently Harmony and her gang were waiting at the house tonight - to find you, Buffy. And - somehow - they managed to snatch Dawn."

"Oh my God, Dawnie!" Willow cried, and Buffy whirled on her heel, getting up close to Spike.

"Where is she taking her - where's Harmony hiding out, Spike!"

"She took over my old crypt. Sure to have her there. Watcher, call the house and tell the wolfling -"

"Tara said he was tracking them. He was knocked unconscious for a few minutes." Giles said. Angel was watching them, a strange look on his face.

"Let's go then - we've got stakes in the car." Xander said, already heading for the door.

"I don't need any help from Spike -" Buffy started, and Spike was game-face, snarling.

"Not gonna let Xander go alone, not gonna let anything happen to Dawn. So keep up or sod off, Slayer," he growled, and bolted past her, catching up with Xander. They were both through the door and getting into the DeSoto by the time Buffy came out, and she shoved roughly past Xander and climbed into the back seat.

"Giles is bringing Willow in his car - he's got some weapons in the trunk. Let's _go_. If I don't get her home before my mom gets there…" The DeSoto roared to life and Buffy let out a startled yelp as Spike gunned the car away from the curb and tore down the street. The stereo was still on and Alice was still singing at top volume.

"God, Spike, _where_ did you get your license - a Cracker Jack box?" Buffy yelled, hanging grimly onto the back of the seat.

"Never got me a license, Slayer!" Spike yelled back, still game-face, grinning like a madman now, and Xander and Buffy shared a look that was equally horrified and resigned. In this moment, when Buffy was _on_ , Slayer-mode, there was nothing but _her_ in the seeing. The other Slayers had retreated and Buffy's purpose - her focus - was so intense she was like a flare of magnesium in the corner of Xander's vision. It was somehow...comforting.

_"You see my burning fuse…From a mile away_   
_I took your cruel abuse…Lord took away my shame_   
_I learned to bite the hand…That used to pull my chain_   
_We'll fight, cause we ain't on the same side…_   
_We're in an unholy war, unholy war…I'll try, yeah I'll fight until I die_   
_Unholy.…"_

 

Spike watched Xander walk into the back room with the girls - turned slowly and eyed the Watcher from where he was hovering near the display counter. Spike sauntered over to the counter as well - dropped his cigarette butt into a cup of cold coffee. Giles edged away and then stopped when Spike smirked at him. 

_*Calm*_ from Xander, and _*love*_

"Ssso, Watcher. Tell me, why don't you, _why_ you thought bringing the great pouf up here was a good idea?"

Giles frowned, and over at the bookshelves Angel shut his book with a snap, glaring over at Spike.

"Shut up, Spike," he grated out, and Spike leaned back against the counter, fishing out another cigarette and lighting it with a snap.

"How's your shoulder, Angelus? Still sore, maybe?" Angel growled and advanced on him, and Giles held up a hand, looking nervous.

"Let's all just - just calm down, shall we? I asked Angel here because, as you said, Spike, he had information about this claim spell."

"Yeah - but that's not why you had him come up _here_. He could have told you about the spell on the 'phone. Why'd you _really_ want him here? Did you think he could do something? Did you think he could - break the spell?" Angel was still glaring, standing a few feet away, and Giles shuffled a little, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"Well, I - yes, Spike. I was - _am_ \- worried about Xander. He seems to have leapt into this without much thought, as usual, and I -" Giles stuttered to a halt as Spike turned on him, demon's visage flickering out and back.

"You saying something against my own, Watcher? Better not be. Xander isn't stupid - he knew what he was doing. I told him _everything_ , and he _chose_ it. He didn't give himself up to me for - for nothing. For a good _shag_. Don't presume you know _anything_ about him, Watcher." Spike glared at Giles a moment longer, then turned a sneer on Angel, watching the older vampire glower at him from under his brows.

"And Angelus, here - he can't do a bloody thing about this spell. What'd you think, he'd just come up here an' say 'piss off, Spike', and I'd tuck tail and run?" Spike snorted - took a long drag and blew the smoke at Angel.

Giles fiddled with his glasses. "Well, _yes_ , actually, I rather thought that, as your Sire, he could-" 

" _Sire_?" Spike laughed, and Giles looked bewildered. "He isn't my _Sire_. What, did he tell you he was? Tell you he could - fix it all?" Spike laughed again - looked over at Angel who was looking murderous. "You should know when to shut up by now, you great git."

" _Spike_ ," Angel hissed, and Spike smirked at him.

Giles was polishing his glasses, looking alarmed. " _Not_ his Sire? But you - I thought for sure - Is _Drusilla_ your Sire? Surely not -"

"Course she is, Watcher. She chose me, _she_ did the deed. The pouf didn't have a thing to do with it." Spike finished his cigarette and watched the butt bob in the coffee - felt _*awe*_ and _*love*_ and _*friend*_ from Xander. He could see - just in flickers - what Xander was seeing. He could see _*Slayer. Her **soul**. Bloody hell. **That's** what he sees? That's… Do **we** look like that?*_ He blinked - realized Angel had been saying something.

"Sorry, Irish - wasn't paying attention. Was seeing what Xander was seeing. Slayer's soul - amazing thing."

Angel shut his mouth with a snap, staring at him. "You can - you saw Buffy's soul? What-"

"Don't ask. Maybe Xander'll tell you some time. Maybe he'll look at _your_ soul, Angel. Bet that'd be a _real_ treat. Think your soul does that to its hair, too?" Angel turned away in disgust, shaking his head, and Spike fished in his duster for his flask - took a long swallow.

"Listen - both of you. There is _nothing_ you can do to change what's happened. It's _done_. And the more you fight it, the more you hurt Xander. He won't take you acting like he's some kind of a sodding kid - some kind of a fuck-up - very much longer. He'll leave here, and you'll be lucky if you know he's still alive. So get over it and move on."

Giles stared at him, open-mouthed, and Angel strode back over, getting up _way_ too close. "Listen to _me_ , Spike - I won't let you weasel your way into this group just to fuck them over when you're bored of it all. Giles wanted me up here to make sure you understood this: you're being _watched_ , Spike, and you'd _better_ be on your best behavior or I'll -"

"You'll _what_ , Angelus? Try to take me out? I think we've _done_ this, and I wasn't the one ended up bleeding, was I?" Spike's voice was half growl, and he tried to calm himself. "I've got _family_ here - me and Xander and the wolfling are _pack_ \- and they'd _both_ take you out if you fucked with me, you _bastard_." Spike clenched his fist around the spiral nail in his pocket, the urge to pull it out and drive it through the solid rock of Angel's stupid head almost overwhelming.

_*You miserable cunt, you back the fuck off*_ "You don't order me, or try to make me, or _tell me_ anything, anymore, _Angel_. You understand?" They were toe to toe, demons to the fore, snarling, and Giles was frozen against the counter.

_*Fuck. There's the witch. She'd better…better watch herself. That power of hers - like a snake, all twisted around her*_ He shook his head a little, pushing the images away, still snarling at Angel. Giles fumbled at his glasses and almost dropped them from nervous tension.

"Wha- what do you mean about Oz, Spike? What does _he_ have to do with this?" Giles asked, and Spike spared him a hateful glance.

"Just what I said, Watcher. We're - " He stopped abruptly. He could feel - something. In the link. It was faint, barely there. It was Oz. And he was…afraid. He struggled for a moment with the demon - finally pushed it away to _listen_ , and Xander was in the link, asking _*What's wrong*_ and Spike darted into the other room, meeting his worried gaze.

"Xander, it's-"

"Oz - yeah. Fuck."

 

His old crypt was silent - seemingly deserted - and they approached warily. Willow had convinced Giles to take her to the Summers house - she was worried about Tara being alone _and_ about Joyce coming home to no daughters and a terrified stranger; Angel was nowhere to be seen.

_*Bloody poufter can't even keep up*_ Spike thought disgustedly before pushing open the crypt doors. Xander and Buffy both crowded in behind him. The inside was dark, but he could hear voices, very faintly, from under the sewer access cover. The faint pulse of _*fear protect help*_ that had been coming from Oz was stronger - was _loud_ , and Oz was there, graceful wolf trotting up to the crypt and pushing against Spike's leg. Xander crouched down, running his hands over the soft fur.

"Hey Oz - you okay?"

_*Dawn*_ and Oz let out a muffled sort of bark, clearly eager to get on with it.

"Oz?" Buffy looked down at the wolf - looked at Spike. "So - are they in there?"

"Down underneath. I'm gonna heave that cover off. There's a ladder on this side, but the hole's big enough you can just drop down - nothing underneath to catch on. You get down there fast, Slayer, and the wolf and me'll be right behind you. Xander, you get Little Bit, she'd gonna be scared out of her mind."

"Yeah," Xander breathed, standing back up and flexing his hand around the stake he was carrying.

"How many?" Buffy whispered as they glided across the dirt floor. Spike crouched down and grabbed the stone slab, muscles tense and ready to lift. 

_*Listenin' to me. Guess you've got some sense, Slayer - keep using it and we'll have Dawn back in a trice*_

"Only four or five when we met up a couple nights ago. Dunno if she had more or not. Didn't seem to. Ready?" Buffy nodded, and Oz pushed his muzzle into Spike's shoulder. 

_*Careful*_ from Xander, and Spike sent it right back, _*careful love you*_ Then he lifted and swung the cover off in one movement, lowering it as quietly as possible to the ground. Buffy looked down into flickering dimness - some kind of fire light - and jumped, straight and graceful. Oz was next, silent on his wolf-paws, and Spike grinned over at Xander and followed, duster rustling like crow's wings around him. He landed easily and crept forward, hearing Xander land behind him. There were voices ahead - Harmony stuttering something, a deeper male voice answering - and Dawn's panicked heartbeat, thudding over all.

_*Sounds like she's losing her gang. Stupid chit. Almost got you, Niblet, be brave*_ They went down a short stretch of tunnel and then into a larger chamber and Buffy was flying forward, kicking and punching, and Harmony shrieked " _Slayer!_ " and Oz leaped on a heavy-set female and then Spike was _in_ , full-body slam into a hulking male.

The demon roared, delighted, and Oz answered, yipping howl that had _*fight pack **blood** *_ behind it, delight in the mayhem. Something - a brief shock of _*Wha-? Fuuuck…*_ from Xander, and then nothing, the link shutting down hard.

Peripherally, Spike could see Xander over by Dawn, giving her a quick hug and then attacking the chains that bound her to the rock wall. The big vamp under Spike grunted and heaved him up and Spike snarled and slashed his straight-razor across his throat - slashed again, putting supernatural muscle behind it and the panicked face fell back - away - as the vamp's neck was severed. Dust puffed up from his disintegrating body and Spike turned, searching. Buffy staked another male - her second - and Oz was standing, panting, in an eddy of dust. Harmony was gone. Xander did something with a tool - with his multi-purpose knife that he carried everywhere - and Dawn's hands fell, free of the chains. She threw herself on Xander, crying, and Xander hugged her close, rubbing her back. Buffy ran over and Dawn went from Xander to her, babbling incoherently.

"Shhh, Dawn, it's okay, mom'll kill me for letting you get kidnapped by vampires, you better not say one _word_ to her or I'll.... C'mon, it's okay, shhh…"

Dawn pushed back from Buffy, wiping her eyes with the flat of her hand, face blotchy and eyes swollen.  
"I'll tell mom you killed vampires in front of me! You're not supposed to do that!" She looked over at Spike and smiled a tiny smile.

"Thanks for c-coming to get me Spike. Oz? Is that Oz? Wow!" Dawn scurried over to the wolf and knelt down, running her hands through the soft fur and Spike smirked at the _*scratch nice*_ Oz, in a display of utter doggishness, leaned into Dawn and let her scratch behind his ears, mouth open in a wide, panting grin.

"Wonder where that stupid cow Harm scampered off to? Guess we'd better go find her. You up for patrol, Xander?" Spike lit a cigarette and Xander nodded, looking around.

"Sure. Guess we'll - tell her to get out of Sunnydale, huh? I just - I don't think I can stake her, you know?" _*Know her*_ , and Spike nodded. He'd figured they wouldn't be able to off one of their own, no matter how marginally she came under that heading. He could _remember_ Harmony - most clearly, he could remember her fighting for her life and her classmate's lives against the snake-mayor's hordes, and he reluctantly agreed with Xander's _*helped us*_ and Oz's _*frightened girl*_

"She tried to bite Willow, you know. _And_ she kidnapped my sister - why shouldn't we stake her?" Buffy said, tucking her own stake away into the back of her pants.

"'Cause she's… _Harmony_ , Buffy. She went to school with us. And…she's got a soul, too. I've seen it." Xander shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Dawn. Buffy stared at him.

"You're kidding, right? _Harmony_ has a soul? Xander - " Buffy stopped - pushed her hands slowly back through her hair.

Spike leaned against the wall behind him, watching them. _*What's got the Slayer all troubled now?*_

"Xander - am I…am I killing - _murdering_ \- people like…like Angel? If Harmony has a soul, could she be - good? Could she..."

_*Ooooh, that's it, is it? Huh. Doesn't make' kill first ask second' quite so nice now, does it, Slayer?*_

Xander glanced over at Spike, _*love you*_ and shrugged at Buffy. "I don't - know, Buffy. Kidnapping Dawn wasn't good… Most of the demons you kill - the vampires - they really _are_ evil. I looked, out on patrol, and I've looked around a lot, and… they're _different_ , Buffy. Most of them really do just want to - kill everything. Some don't. But the ones that don't - aren't around much, when you are. A soul doesn't mean instant white-hat status. If it did, we humans would all be saints, wouldn't we? It's not - black and white."

Buffy sighed, and looked over at Spike again - looked at Dawn, who was hugging Oz. "I guess - I guess I'll just…rely on you to tell me the difference, okay, Xander? I don't want to…slay anyth- any _body_ that might not…need it." She sighed again, and pushed a loose strand of hair off her face.

_*Tired Slayer. Worried about her mum, her sis…and now this. Maybe it'll tone her attitude down a notch.*_ Spike shivered a little, and flicked his cigarette butt away.

_*Still wanna taste her blood. See what you've done, love? Made me…almost feel sorry for the Slayer, for a second*_ He frowned over at Xander, _*damn pitiful slayer love you **stop** that*_ and Xander stifled a giggle - turned it into a cough.

"Yeah, okay - guess you'd better get Dawn home - where'd Deadboy get off to?"

"Don't think he's _been_ gettin' off - probably half his problem…" Spike muttered, and Buffy shot him a venomous look.

"He's gone. He said - we didn't need him, he wasn't part of the team and he'd just - be in the way." She looked angry at that - tossed her head, dismissing him. "Come on, Dawn - we need to get home." Dawn nodded and stood up, one hand still on Oz's back, and they all filed back out to the main room. Buffy looked in utter bewilderment at the collection of unicorn figures that Harmony had apparently been amassing, and Spike sneered at the fluffy bedclothes and throw-pillows she'd heaped on a big four-poster bed.

_*How in hell'd she get that down here? Christ. Unicorns. Be a mercy to stake her, sorry excuse for the evil undead. Makes us all look bad*_

Buffy went up the ladder first and stood at the top, watching Dawn climb. Xander was close behind him, fingers edging around the sides of the duster and burrowing up under his t-shirt - trails of fire across his stomach. Spike leaned back a little, resting against the solid warmth of the man, and Buffy, reaching down to help Dawn climb off the top of the ladder shot them an irritated look. Oz made a breathy, yipping sound - wolfish laughter - and leaped _up_ , clearing the edge of the hole and disappearing.

_*Love you want you mine*_ from Xander, and Spike turned in Xander's embrace and pulled him close - kissed him, taste of _*sweet love love you*_ running his own hands up under Xander's shirt. 

"Hey! You guys get up here!" Buffy yelled, and Xander pulled back, grinning.

"The Slayer shrieks," he whispered, and Spike reluctantly let him go; watched him climb the ladder and couldn't resist a grab at the taut body-part in jeans that hovered so enticingly just above him.

"I saw that, Spike!" Buffy growled, and Spike smirked up at her.

"He slipped, Slayer - don't want him fallin' now, do you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm getting Dawn home, and then I still have to go over to that warehouse. Are you guys gonna find Harmony?"

"Sure - oh…" Xander looked over at Oz and Dawn, and nodded.

_*Naked*_ from Oz.

"Oz needs to go home with you, Buffy - his clothes are there."

Buffy blinked - looked at Oz - blinked again. "Ah - yeah. Right. _God_ I hope mom's not home! Let's go, Dawn, we need to _hurry_." Dawn sidled over to Spike - grabbed him in a quick hug that took him totally by surprise.

_*Way to piss off big sis, Niblet*_

She grinned up at him - hugged Xander too. "Thanks for rescuing me guys. Sorry you had to do it." Dawn strode out of the crypt, looking far too bouncy.

"Yeah - thanks, you guys." Buffy stood for long moment, just looking at the three of them, then she hastily went after Dawn. Oz yipped - brushed close past Spike and Xander and followed. Spike leaned back against a tomb, watching Xander _*want you*_ surging over him, wash of fire.

"Sssooo…havin' a little…fantasy, Xan?" Spike whispered, and Xander came up close to him - put his hands on either side of Spike and leaned into him, heat and weight pressing him back.

"Oh yeah…" Xander brushed his lips over Spike's - over his cheek and jaw, moth-touches, and Spike shivered. "I thought about you, in here - thought about comin' over some night, after patrol. All…worked up from the slaying. Finding you here, in your…lair." Xander's hands came up - pushed at the duster and slid it off. Then his hands were at the hem of Spike's t-shirt, pushing, and Spike lifted his arms, letting Xander pull the shirt up and off. 

"What did you think you'd do, when you found me?" Spike asked, voice low, and Xander put his palms flat on Spike's chest, rubbing lightly.

"Oh, I thought…thought you'd be here, like this, in your jeans and boots - just…drinking some of that whiskey - smoking…. _Lurking_.…" Xander grinned at him - lost the grin as Spike pulled him close, groin to groin, subtle pressure.

"Yeah? And what then, love? What's next…?"

Xander leaned forward again and ran his tongue over the claim mark - lightning down his body, straight to his cock, and Spike arched up, gasping. "Then - then I'd just push you down, like this - " Xander pushed him back, laying him back along the cold marble, mouth hot and wet on his collarbones, sternum. Xander's hands slid down Spike's arms to his wrists - brought them out and up, pinning them. "Hold you down, taste you - kiss you - bite you…" Xander murmured, and did that, nipples and ribs and side of Spike's throat - hinge of jaw and the soft underside of his chin. Sinking his teeth in, just a little, and Spike writhed under him, panting now.

"Xander -" _*want you love yours yours*_

"Mmmm…" Xander rocked his hips, pushing down tight, their erections crowding close through the denim. The buttons of Spike's fly pressed in hard and he arched up, hissing, basking in the razor-edge of pain that licked out - became pleasure. "Don't move," Xander said, and he let Spike's wrists go - wrenched open the buttons and pulled. Spike put his legs around Xander's waist and squeezed, lifting his hips, and Xander yanked the jeans down. The tomb was icy under his buttocks and back, Xander like a furnace against his cock, and Spike moaned softly, arching his back. Xander fumbled for something in a duster-pocket - grinned and held up a squashed tube of gel.

"Never know -" Spike said, and Xander ducked down - came back up between Spike's legs, the jeans across his back. He pushed his own jeans down, freeing himself, and then leaned back up, pressing Spike's wrists down again, full-body rub of hot flesh.

"When I thought about this - you let me, let me fuck you - you _wanted_ me… God…" Xander sealed his mouth over Spike's, all teeth and _push_ , and Spike kissed back, fucking his tongue into Xander's mouth, tasting the essence of him, letting the demon out so that he could graze a fang over Xander's tongue - taste the rich, sweet blood that welled there. Xander ground closer, his cock slicking wetness over Spike's belly; a bar of flame that threatened to brand Spike - immolate him. His own cock jumped, pressed tight between two bellies, and he pulled Xander closer with his trapped feet, wanting more.

_*Want in me love please*_ and Xander let one wrist go - moved back an inch, and Spike felt the cool gel smearing on him - felt a fingertip stroke and circle and push _in_ , slow. A ripple of shivers ran out from that point, and Spike moaned into Xander's mouth - pushed the demon away as Xander leaned up a little, moving his lips down over Spike's neck.

"You taste so good…feel good…love this, right here - " Xander bit gently along the top of Spike's shoulder - pushed the finger deeper, skating over that place, and Spike arched up, gasping.

"Ooh, pet…again, again - " Xander's finger twisted - thrust - then he pushed in another, rasp of callus and scarred knuckles, blunt fingernails just ghosting over that most sensitive place. Spike writhed, hips moving in shallow thrusts, and Xander leaned into his neck and rasped his tongue over the scar there - raked it lightly with his teeth. 

_*Beautiful vampire mine want*_ "You want me? You ready for me?" Xander whispered, and Spike turned his head a little, tongue and lips on Xander's throat.

_*Yours want **now** *_ "Ready love, ready, in me…" Xander's fingers slid out - his hips moved back a little, and Spike opened his eyes. Stared at Xander - into wide eyes that were black in the dimness. Spike felt the tip of Xander's cock pushing at him - pushed against it and sighed in pleasure as Xander pressed slowly in. Xander's hand closed around Spike's balls - holding them up, tug and pressure, and then his slick palm covering Spike's cock, rubbing. Spike reached and pulled Xander down - pulled him closer - and Xander's hand was on his wrist again, holding him still.

"No, no touching, just let me…" Stronger push, going deeper, and Spike lifted his hips, arched his back - _wanted_ , and Xander smiled at him. Thrust in hard and froze for a moment. "Oh, yeah - dreamed about _this_ \- you so tight and…cool, like this… Wanting me - _needing_ me…" Xander moved back and forth, strong thrusts that rocked Spike back a little, the marble slick under his spine. Xander leaned over him, faces inches apart, his hands and Spike's wide on the tomb, his hips moving faster, cock pushing deeper. Spike felt tingles of electricity - of fire - prickling out over his body, centering on the burning brand that was Xander's cock in him.

"You need me, Spike? You…need this?"

"Know I do, Xander…you know…you make me alive, you -" _*love you love you beautiful my own always*_

_*Yours always **mine** *_ Xander kissed him, frantic pressure of tongue and teeth, claiming Spike's mouth with his own, claiming his body with his own - his soul, with his own. Thrusting harder now, collision of flesh loud in the stillness, and….

_*Oh there, there love fuck…*_ and Spike was pulling him closer, legs like a vise around Xander's ribs and Xander suddenly let go of his wrists. One hand snaked down between them, grasping Spike's cock and pumping it, rough and fast. The other hand threading through Spike's hair, lifting his head, turning it, Xander's mouth on Spike's throat, on the scar.

"Wanted to make you mine - wanted to _have_ you - want you…" _*Mine only mine*_ and Xander's teeth sank deep, tearing flesh.

Spike's back arched up like a cat and he _roared_ \- turned his head and let the demon come, let the demon _take_ ; the sweet and living blood, spiced with _*magic*_ with _*love*_ with _himself_ and with the tiniest flash of the wolfling, exotic and heady and _needed_. He drank - felt Xander doing the same, _*good so good want this always*_ and Xander's body pounding into him, the heat of him in Spike doubling as Xander came. Spike's own orgasm was thunder - fire - and he pulled away from Xander's neck and cried out again, moving helplessly, instinctively, shudder and push against the heat of Xander's body, against his slowing thrusts. And then - flicker of images; himself, on his back, arched and gasping and _glowing_....

_*Oh, what is - that's...*_

_*You love, you, beautiful*_ He saw _himself_ \- the demon and the human parts of himself entwined and glowing, golden-white, almost painfully bright. Sparks of light, gold and scarlet and white dancing and whirling, around him, _through_ him... Spike shuddered, gasping, the final moments of orgasm a drawn-out ecstasy. Finally Xander lay over him, panting, heavy and immobile and Spike hugged him close, kissing shoulder and throat - soothing the bite with his tongue, cleaning the smear of blood away. _*Love you pet, oh...love you thank you*_

"God. Spike - love you so much. Did you see - how beautiful you are? Doesn't seem…real, sometimes. Too good." Xander burrowed into Spike's neck, hands slipping under his shoulder blades and pulling him close, and Spike ran soothing hands over Xander's back.

"It's real, love. _*Real*_ Never let you go." They lay together for a long moment, and Spike heard the whispered _Ceil_ that ended the seeing. Xander shivered - shivered again when he slipped free of Spike's body, and he pushed himself up.

"Getting cold. Stupid crypt. Damn - nothing to clean up with." Spike sat up, limpeting onto Xander, arms and legs tight around his body. 

_*So warm*_ "Don't wanna let you go," he whispered, resting his head on Xander's shoulder, and Xander's hands were strong around his back - strong and sure and _*safe, safe and loved*_ stutter of images, memories; Dru and himself curled under blankets, sound of rain, dry rushing of a fire. The whole family around a table - playing cards - Darla laughing and Angelus pouring her spiced cider, slipping a card to Spike under the table - the three of them on the pull-out bed in the living room, casual sprawl of bodies that touched without tension, himself and Xander and Oz…. _*Family protect*_

Xander raised one hand - gently turned Spike's face up, the dark eyes searching. Full of love, full of... _*understand*_ "I know, love. I…know. We'll have this, for as long as we can. They know, now - no more hiding it, and we'll just…just be… _*family ours never leave*_

Soft kiss, to forehead and each cheek - to lips, and Spike sighed into it, loving it - loving that Xander _knew_ , that he knew and didn't care, how fragile this felt to Spike - how much he wanted it. _*Want too much*_

_*Don't want enough. Give you everything - anything -my own always love you love you*_

Spike hugged Xander hard, then leaned back a bit, smiling at him.

_*Real smile*_

"All for you, love. Better get home. Wolfling'll wonder what happened. And - " Spike made a gesture down at them, at sticky, drying matter that had adhered rather uncomfortably to both of them. "Need a shower."

"Always with the bath fetish. Maybe we _should_ have a bath - soak in that tub…"

Spike raised an eyebrow - smirked. "Sounds nice. Like to fuck you in there - in all that hot water…" 

_*Want*_ from Xander, and Spike grinned - leaned back as Xander let him go and watched his boy squirm out from between legs and jeans, stumbling a little. In the end they sacrificed Spike's t-shirt and walked home in the thick, summer air, Spike's duster over his arm and Xander's arm around his waist, stroking along rib and belly, _*beautiful*_ through the link. Spike noticed - as did Xander - a scurrying blonde presence in the bushes, but they both ignored it. 

_*Hunt her another day*_ Spike thought, and Xander agreed.

 

______________________

Alice Cooper - _Unholy War_


	20. Key

Xander parked his truck outside the Magic Box and sat for a moment, thinking. The mid-September sun beat down strongly on the roof, and he stretched in his seat, muscles tired from work. There was sawdust on his jeans that he brushed at half-heartedly, and the radio was playing, some new song he didn't recognize - a woman's voice, rapping about a 'One minute man'. Xander listened for a moment, but couldn't concentrate on it. A week since Dawn had been kidnapped. A week since he'd… _seen_. 

He'd waited - through the various events of the week - to bring this to Giles. But he couldn't wait anymore. Spike was on his way - he could feel him - and he could just faintly hear the DeSoto, roaring through Sunnydale like one of the resident monsters. It made him smile, and he turned off the truck and got out and went up to the door - pushed inside. The Grand Opening was happening tomorrow - Giles had delayed it for various reasons - and the shop was still a bit of a mess. Some boxes were, in fact, scattered across the larger area right below the landing, and a couple looked as if they had been crushed.

"Hey, Giles? You here?" Xander called, looking around. He heard a noise, and Giles stepped out of the back room. He held a towel to his head, and he looked - woozy. Xander stepped quickly over to him, catching his elbow and guiding him to a chair.

"Giles, you okay? What happened?" Giles pulled the towel away from his head, revealing a large, swollen bruise. There was a smear of blood on the towel. "Jesus!"

_*All right?*_

_*Fine... Giles...*_

"I assure you, I'm perfectly - perfectly fine, Xander. Just a small bruise, a slight...concussion." Giles put the towel back onto his forehead with a wince of pain, and Xander heard the ice wrapped inside crunching together.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?" He crouched down, looking up at the older man, and Giles smiled faintly at him.

"No, no, I really am fine. I've been hit in the head enough times that I know when I need immediate medical attention, more's the pity."

"If you're sure." Xander looked at Giles for a moment - held up three fingers. "How many fingers, Giles?" he said.

"One too many, pet, you do it like this -" Spike's voice, from the back door, and the vampire strode over, cigarette pluming smoke and smirk firmly in place, blanket tucked under his arm. _*Mmmm, pet, smell good*_

Giles rolled his eyes and started to stand up. "Spike, what are _you_ doing - oh, yes, that's right." Giles subsided back onto the chair and looked at Xander, frowning.

"Yes, we're still shaggin' like rabbits, Watcher, did you forget? Must've gotten hit a little harder then you thought."

_*Stop that*_ Xander patted Giles' knee and stood up. "So, what happened, Giles? Who - or what - hit you?"

"Ah - well. _That_ is the mystery of the moment, although I dare say an hour's worth of book-work will answer the question. The - demon - was rather distinctive."

Spike hopped up onto the display counter, ignoring Giles' automatic wince and glare. He looked around for someplace to put out his cigarette and dropped it into a half-empty cup of tea. "So - what made it so distinctive, Watcher? I'm guessing something _other_ than that stench?"

"Yes, the smell. Well, apart from that, it wanted the Slayer and _only_ the Slayer. Most demons will happily take out anything in their path, but this one was extraordinarily focused and please do _not_ touch that, it may very well transport us all to a dimension that is overrun with creatures that rival Tyrannosaurus Rex for bloodlust and size."

Xander hastily put the little velvet box with the oddly-shaped crystal in it back and looked guiltily at Giles, who took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You know, I really could use some aspirin or, perhaps, a drink of something...Irish," Giles said.

"That's what Darla thought, and look what it got her," Spike muttered. He lifted his legs and spun around on the counter, dropping down behind it and rummaging for a moment.

_*Spike, be nice*_ Xander thought, and Spike snorted in amusement. A moment later he popped back up, grinning, a rather dusty bottle in his hand.

"Let's all have a sip, shall we?" He unscrewed the cap and raised the bottle to his lips.

"Don't you dare!" Giles growled, and Spike glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. "There are cups in the office," Giles sighed, and Spike laughed.

"I'll get them. So, you're okay, and you think you can find out what this demon is. That's - that's good." Xander went back into the cramped office, looking around, and found a stack of paper cups.

"Well, I'm not unconscious or dead, so I say, 'Bully for me'," came Giles' rather peeved voice.

_*Laughter*_ from Spike and Xander grabbed two cups - hesitated - and grabbed one more.

_*Might need it. Hate this.*_

_*Be all right love*_

Xander came back out and lined the cups up on the counter. Spike cheerfully filled them, and Giles hauled himself out of his chair and came over. He scowled at Spike and picked up his cup.

"Cheers," he muttered, and tossed the whiskey back. Spike did the same, and Xander took a mouthful and tried not to gag. Spike laughed again, earning an amazed look from Giles.

"Here, pet, I'll have yours too, then," Spike said, and tweaked the cup away from Xander. Xander let him have it, coughing.

"I'm just not manly enough for the hard stuff, I guess," he croaked. 

Giles dabbed at his head gently and then sighed, laying the now-dripping towel down on a crumpled nest of newspapers. "Now that we've all had a drink, perhaps you'd like to tell me why you wanted to speak to me, Xander? Spike, put it _back_." Spike growled, but he pulled the bottle back out of his duster pocket and bent down, shoving it away in whatever cubby Giles had secreted it.

"It's about...about the other night, Giles. When Dawn was kidnapped? I - I _saw_ -"

"Oh good Lord," Giles whispered, and he went white. Xander made a grab for him and Giles waved him away, leaning on the counter and looking at Xander rather wildly.

"Giles, what -"

"Of course, of _course_ , how stupid of me, it would only take one look and…."

" _Giles_ ," Xander said, loudly, and the Watcher stopped talking, frowning at him.

"I suppose that - whatever you saw - you shared it with Spike?"

Xander glanced at Spike, who was pawing through a box full of copper figurines. "'Course I did, Giles. And Oz." He shrugged at Giles' horrified look. "We don't keep secrets, Giles, we're pack. It just - doesn't work that way."

"Yes, Spike said something to that effect that night. What did he - what do you _both_ \- mean by it?"

_*Tell?*_

_*No harm*_ from Spike, and his eyes flashed up to meet Xander's for a moment, bright with suppressed laughter. The amusement he was feeling bubbled in the link, and Xander tried to ignore it. 

Freaking out Giles wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind for this meeting. Although, the mood Spike was in, it was probably inevitable. He'd _been_ in this mood pretty much the whole week. As he'd put it - _'They know we're together now, love, so we can do what we like and not have to worry.'_

Xander knew that meant, at least in part, that Spike felt free to touch - or kiss - him at any time. Which was nice. But which also meant that he'd pretty much abandoned all restraint when it came to the gang and what he would do or say. Which could have its drawbacks. Xander smiled at Spike and turned back to Giles.

"Well...it's to do with the wolf and the hyena. They both want a pack. And the - demon, it wants a nest, you know? We all just want...family. So we kind of...claimed Oz." Giles stared at him - at the both of them - and his mouth came open, but no sound came out. Spike rolled his eyes and ducked down - retrieved the bottle and poured another cup-full. Hesitated, then poured a second.

"You - you - you did _what_? You _claimed_ -? Really Xander, I don't - I simply _don't_ know what to say. What were you _thinking_ \- thank you." He took the cup Spike held out automatically and drained it - crumpled the wilting cup in his fist and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Cheers," Spike said, tossing back his own drink and the _*surprise*_ in the link made Xander giggle. Giles glared at him and Xander choked it off.

"Sorry, you just - oh, never mind. Giles, it wasn't the same as what Spike and I did -"

"Although shaggin' was involved both -"

" _Spike_!'" from both of them, and Spike subsided, going back to the figures.

_*Love you sorry **stop** that*_ Xander took the elastic tie out of his hair and let it fall, long, down his neck and to the tops of his shoulders. He combed his fingers through it and smirked a little at Spike's instant, unwavering gaze. Giles began to edge around the end of the counter.

"Maybe 'claim' is the wrong word. We didn’t do that spell or anything, it was just... Oz felt like he was being pushed out - like he wasn't a part of our...pack, anymore. It was hurting him, Giles." Xander watched the older man open one drawer and then another and finally come up with an industrial sized bottle of aspirin. He opened it and shook three out into his palm and put the bottle away.

"I'll...I'll reserve judgment on that, Xander, until I've spoken to Oz. Why didn't he come with you today?" Giles looked around, and Spike held out the bottle, not looking at him. Giles sighed and took it - poured a small measure into Spike's cup.

"He's working down at the Bronze a couple nights a week - helping the bands set up and stuff, doing the sound for them. He wanted to get back into music somehow now that the Dingoes have kind of...moved on." Giles tossed the aspirin into his mouth - swallowed them with the whiskey and then eyed the cup with distaste.

"Don't fret, Watcher - I imagine the alcohol killed any vampire cooties," Spike smirked, and Giles scowled at him.

"Come into the back. We need to talk about this. Buffy should be arriving in about ten minutes."

"Buffy?"

"This concerns her sister, Xander - it's only fair she be here." Xander had a sinking feeling in his gut - he didn't want any confrontations. They'd told the gang what was going on, sure. And they'd even kind of worked some stuff out. But the past week had been - crazy - and Xander really didn't want some sort of tension-breaking fight happening. Joyce had had her surgery - and it had gone surprisingly well - but she was still in the hospital, and the gang was on eggshells about it, hoping to hear back about the test results of the tumor that had been removed. 

Riley had had his surgery, too; after being chased down by six other Initiative members and Buffy. Spike had heard about _that_ , and Riley had found out a day later that the six soldiers and one doctor hadn't made it out of Sunnydale. The bodies hadn't turned up yet, alive _or_ dead, but there had been one night of total silence from Spike - the link shut down so hard that Xander had felt as if Spike were dead. He knew he _wasn't_ \- there was always this pulse of _Spike_ , just below conscious thought that kept him aware of the vampire no matter what - but the total, _deliberate_ , silence had been... It had been horrible. Xander had felt adrift - _lost_.

He'd lain in bed shivering, until Oz had come home, and the rush of concern from the werewolf had been like water in the desert. Oz had come straight to him - slid into the bed beside him. They'd both talked until dawn, hands laced together under the sheet, the slow whir of the box-fan in the window competing with the crickets and the distant surf. Spike had come in with the sun just behind him, through the back door and straight into the shower. Then he'd crawled in between Xander and Oz and finally opened the link, and they'd both just hugged him close, Spike's chaotic and bloody thoughts gradually dimming down to nothing and all three of them finally sleeping.

Xander's lack of guilty feelings for knowing what had happened to the missing men had, perversely, _made_ him feel guilty, and it had taken a long talk with Spike and Oz the next afternoon to dispel any notions he might have had of feeling sorry for them. Spike had gotten some information out of the soldiers - what the Initiative was doing at it's installation in Brazil - and it hadn't been pretty. Spike had, Xander suspected, 'lost it' again with those soldiers, and he hoped that this was the last of them to come to town. Spike's duster was lighter for having been emptied of its cache of spiral nails. Riley's buddy Graham had been at the hospital with Riley, who wouldn't leave Buffy - and so had lucked out of any retribution. But Xander suspected Spike had plans for him.

And now - who knew what would happen when he told Giles what he had _seen_? The three of them walked into the back of the shop, and Xander stopped in the doorway in surprise. The room - once an area for storage - had been cleared and fitted up as a training room, complete with equipment and a place for Buffy to change and clean up. 

"Wow - Giles! This is great!"

Giles had settled onto an old couch that was against one wall, and he smiled rather tiredly at Xander.  
"Thank you. I did it as a surprise for Buffy - she saw it just last night."

"She must have loved it." Xander walked over to a rack of weights, running his finger over them, and grinned over at Spike who had leaped past him and landed a ferocious punch on the heavy bag. It swung alarmingly, creaking, and Spike attacked it again, punches and kicks that were blindingly fast.

_*Like a cat with a new toy*_ Xander thought, and Spike growled and landed a last punch - turned and _pounced_ , one fluid movement, pushing Xander back against the weights and pinning him there with his body.

"Wanna see what else I can do with toys?" he murmured in Xander's ear, and the accompanying mental image made a flush of desire surge through Xander's body.

_*Oh fuck yeah*_

"Can you please _not_ do that where I have to see?" Giles said, and Spike snarled over his shoulder at the older man, flashing fangs.

_*Be nice or-*_

_*Or? Punish me?*_

Another flurry of images, and Xander groaned, pushing weakly at Spike's shoulders. "Cut it out, Spike. I could really live forever without a hard-on in front of Giles!" Xander hissed.

"Might make him shut up for once," Spike muttered, and let his teeth just graze the claim scar. One hand was on Xander's hip, holding him close, and the other was tangled in his hair, rubbing his scalp, tugging gently. The sensation sent little sparks rippling over his scalp and down to the claim scar - all over his body.

_*Fuck...love...*_ Xander closed his eyes - took a deep breath of the smoke and leather smell that surrounded him. Spike was doing a full-body, slow-motion grind against him and he shuddered as their groins pressed together. Spike was already hard, and Xander was rapidly getting there.

_*Watcher would leave if we let him do it*_ the soldier whispered, and Xander groaned again. _*No, no, **no**! **No** sex in front of...anybody! Damnit*_ Spike was kissing him now, whiskey and cloves, the demon there and the fangs just prickling Xander's tongue - and Spike's - as the taste suddenly intensified to _*copper magic mine mine*_ and the vampire's blood sparked in Xander's mouth.

Spike pulled away abruptly, grinning, human again. He did a final grind of his body into Xander's and then turned around, getting a cigarette out and lighting it. _*Slayer*_

"Oh fuck," Xander said, and straightened up from where he'd half-collapsed against the weights. He could feel the insistent tickle that was Slayer, as well, although he wasn't sure if he was feeling it himself or through Spike. _*Thank god it was cold this morning*_ he thought, and adjusted the sleeves of the flannel shirt he had tied around his waist.

Giles had laid his head back on the couch and shut his eyes, and for a moment he looked so very…. _*Old, he looks old, and so tired. This must be hard on him, doing his job without any support...any friends his age.*_ Xander went over to the pommel horse and jumped up on it, letting his feet dangle. Spike came and leaned next to him, and a moment later they heard the door bell jangle, and footsteps.

"Giles?"

"Back here, Buffy!" Xander called. Giles hadn't moved. More footsteps, and then Buffy was in the doorway, the automatic smile for Xander crumpling a bit when she saw Spike - going to open-mouthed shock when she saw Giles.

"Giles! What happened?" The Watcher stirred - lifted his head with a grimace.

"The usual, Slayer - demon came to kill you, found him instead. Now you got something new to hunt down." Buffy shot an irritated glance at Spike and strode over to Giles, sitting gingerly on the edge of the couch and looking at Giles with an air of worry that was just slightly tinged with exasperation.

"I'm all right, Buffy. But what Spike said is, essentially, what happened. However -" Giles pushed himself fully upright and looked over at Xander and Spike. "However, that is not our main concern at the moment. Xander and - and Spike know...something...about Dawn."

Buffy stared at Giles for a moment, a look that was part horror and part guilt flashing across her face. Then she turned to stare at Xander. " _How_ do you know?"

"You - know too? What's going on with her, Buffy? What - _is_ she?" 

Buffy drew in a sharp breath, looking at Giles again. "It's a long story, Xander. I want to know how _you_ know." 

Spike glanced at Xander, _*afraid*_ in the link, and Xander nodded. Buffy _was_ afraid. But of what? He cleared his throat nervously. "Well - the night she got kidnapped, when we went to get her? I was still - _seeing_ \- and...when we got to the crypt I saw...Dawn. And she..." Xander stopped, biting his lip.

_*Be all right*_

_*Yeah*_ "She looked...different."

"How did she look different, Xander?" Giles asked. Buffy was tense, her hands digging fiercely into her knees.

"She - most people, you look at them, you see their physical body and their soul is like a ghost, kind of. Sometimes the soul is really distinct - almost separate - but most of the time it's like a copy of the person laid over them, just...glowing and kinda transparent, you know?" The other two nodded, and Spike shifted a little until his shoulder was touching Xander's knee. Xander pressed against him, letting his hand slip down and rest on the back of Spike's neck.

"But when I looked at Dawn, her - soul, her - ghost... It was just - it wasn't right. It flickered, like it was having trouble staying in place. It kind of shifted, from looking like her to you, Buffy, to Joyce and to - to all of us - then back to herself, but there wasn't any... I'm not saying this right. There wasn't any _life_ to it - it was like still images instead of something that lived in her. And - there was this green glow, this green - energy - all around her. Kind of like a - fountain of light that just kept flowing out and going back in. It was - beautiful, it was really amazing, but... it wasn't _right_. What is she, Giles?" 

Giles had been staring at him with wide eyes, and now he blinked - took off his glasses and started to rub his forehead, but winced and stopped when his fingers touched the bruise. Buffy glanced over at him, biting her lip.

"That night that you guys told us - you know -" Buffy made a gesture with her hands and Spike smirked. 

_*Don't don't don't*_ Xander thought, and Spike sighed.

"Well, I went back to that warehouse that night. And there was this - monk - there. He was tied to a chair, and there was a - woman. Well, a demon of some kind. He called her the Beast. We fought -"

"Kicked her ass?"

"Not so much kicked her ass as...she kicked mine." Buffy glanced at Giles and Xander twitched a little from the burst of _*laughter*_ that came through the link from Spike. He pushed his knee harder into Spike's shoulder and rubbed his fingers up Spike's neck, squeezing just a little. Spike shot an amused glance up at him but didn't say a word and Xander focused on Buffy again.

"Wow - okay, so it was some kinda freaky demon mojo or something? I mean - what happened?"

"She's really strong, Xander - I don't know _what_ she is. But - anyway - I grabbed the monk and got out of there and the building kind of collapsed on her, so maybe she's dead, I dunno." Buffy shot to her feet and went to stand by the heavy bag, pushing her fists against it, swinging it just a little. "The monk - he was really hurt - he told me that he and his fellow monks had been guarding a - key. For, like, forever. And the Beast wanted it. And it was really dangerous and they had to keep her away from it. So they -" 

Buffy drew her fist back and _punched_ , setting the bag swinging. "They did some kind of spell and they turned the key into a person. Into a girl." Buffy punched the bag again, then again, hard as she could, and the eye-bolt holding it in the ceiling creaked. A creeping sort of inevitability was coming over Xander, and Spike was very still beside him, cigarette forgotten in his hand and burning down almost to the filter.

_*Does she mean...*_

_*Dunno, pet - seems...*_

"No way, Buffy, no _way_ -"

"They said, in order to protect the key, they sent it - _her_ \- to the Slayer. To _me_. They sent me a little sister." Buffy landed a final, crushing blow to the heavy-bag and stepped away, her arms folded tightly around her ribs.

"Jesus, that's..."

"But we _remember_ her." Spike lifted his cigarette - snarled silently at it and pinched it out, stuffing the butt in his duster pocket. "She was in your living room that night, when we made pax... _Xander_ went to the dance with her!"

"I _know_ , Spike! I know! I remember. I remember the day they brought her home from the hospital! I was so upset, but then - mom let me hold her, and she told me I was her big sister and I'd have to help her, and keep her safe -" Buffy stopped and wiped angrily at her eyes, looked over at Giles. "The monks made up her whole life, and they changed - everything. Everybody. They changed us so it would be like she was always here."

"How is that possible?" Xander wondered, and Giles shook his head.

"We don't know. A spell of that reach - of that magnitude - it's almost unthinkable. I've tried to find out about this - Beast - about the Key, but...I'm not having much success."

"So, is this Beast really gone? When the building collapsed, did she die?" Xander slid down off the horse, bumping into Spike who snaked his arm around Xander's waist and pulled him close. 

"I don't know. It was pretty destroyed. I guess we'll just have to - wait and see. Find out everything we can and - hope she's gone. The monk - he died." Buffy sat back down on the couch next to Giles. "Xander, do you think - does she have a soul?" Buffy's voice was so small and quiet, and Xander felt a surge of protectiveness sweep over him.

"Course she does, Buffy. It felt like - like she was trying to… _make_ one - grow one. I think - whatever the monks did - it's not _finished_ yet. There wasn't anything bad, in Dawn. Just - love, just...needing her family, being afraid of Harmony. She has a...a baby-soul, I think." Buffy smiled at that, and seemed to relax.

"In the meantime," Giles said quietly, "it is _imperative_ that you tell no-one what we've just said. So far we four -"

"Five," Spike said, and Buffy stared at him.

"What do you mean, five?"

"Wolfling knows, of course. Or, will know."

"Spike, you can't tell him! You can't tell anybody!" Buffy was on her feet and across the floor, glaring up at Spike. Spike gently pushed Xander to one side, glaring back.

_*Calm love, **don't** *_

_*Not pack*_ the demon growled.

"The wolf is _family_ , Slayer. He already knows Xander saw something. We'll tell him this too. Deal with it."

"Listen, Spike -"

"It's okay, Buffy." Xander tried to get between the two of them, and Spike pushed him aside again, that sub-sonic growl shivering in Xander's bones. "Oz is one of us - he wouldn't tell. Spike's right. Did you tell Joyce?" Buffy blinked, open mouthed, then pushed her hands back through her hair in frustration.

"We had to. When she was sick - right before the surgery - she could...she could _see_ Dawn. She kinda figured it out. So we told her. But - damnit, Xander! Why did you tell him? How do you know Spike won't - won't sell this to the highest bidder! Or - sell Dawn out to the Beast! You can't _trust_ him -" 

Spike growled, and Xander's hands slipped off his duster as he lunged forward, straight into Buffy. His hands were like claws on her shoulders as he propelled her backwards, five or six stumbling steps and straight into the wall with a crash. Buffy shoved him back, hard, and he reeled back a step and then crouched there, demon snarling into her face.

"Fuck _you_ , Slayer! Xander is _mine_ , and anybody he claims as family is family to me, too. Dawn is like his sister, and I wouldn't hurt a hair on her head!"

_*Spike! Calm, back **off** *_ Xander got up behind Spike and put his arm around the vampire's shoulders - tugged him back. "C'mon, Spike - it's okay. Relax." _*Love you love you calm*_

Buffy was still standing against the wall, her eyes narrowed at Spike. She looked over at Giles - looked back at Spike. "Why didn't the chip zap you, Spike? That hurt, you shoving me into the wall. What's the deal?" She took a step towards them and Spike snarled at her. 

_* **No** back **off** *_ Xander got between them - put his hands up. "Buffy -"

_* **Tell** *_ from Spike, and Xander turned around and looked at him - put his hands up to Spike's face, oblivious to the rage and the fangs - trying to block Buffy out, and Giles as well, who was on his feet by the couch.

"Spike - I don't think -"

"It's time, love. Tired of _all_ of this nonsense. Just - tell 'em." _*Please love tell safe*_

Xander sighed - bowed his head for a brief minute. "Okay, Spike - okay. Fuck." He turned around. Buffy was rigid, her hands clenched into fists, her breath coming in sharp pants.

"Tell me what, Xander."

"The chip - doesn't work any more." Xander said.

" _What_?'" from Giles and:

"How _long_ , Xander," from Buffy, deadly calm.

"Since - March."

"How - how did this - Xander, _what_ is -" Giles sputtered, advancing on them.

"I can't believe it, Xander - I just _can't_. Why would you - why would you keep something like that a secret from us?" Buffy's eyes were wide and wet, but she was trembling all over and Xander was pretty sure she was trying hard not to just launch herself straight at Spike. 

_*Calm*_ from Spike and _*love you*_

_*Love you too*_

_*Protect pack*_ the hyena was tense - ready to fight.

"Why do you think, Buffy? What was I supposed to do, tell you and then let you kill him? Or try to? _Six months_ , Buffy. Six months and he's still fought for us, and helped us, and hasn't tried even _once_ to hurt you - or anybody. He _let_ you hit him. Six months, Buffy."

"How did it happen?" Giles asked. He stood beside Buffy, his mouth pressed into thin, angry line.

"Jack. He owed me for what I did - said he'd pay the debt, any time, I just had to call him. And - I did. He - did something to it. It's not even what it was, anymore."

"Xander..." Giles was shaking his head, looking tired again.

"Get _out_. Because I'm going to -"

" _Stop it_. Just stop it, Buffy!" Xander felt - something. An unaccustomed rage. He got up close to Buffy, trying not to yell - knowing he might, anyway. "You threatened his life when he couldn't even _defend_ himself - you've hit him and belittled him and then expected him to _help_ you, and he's _done it_. Done _everything_ you asked - helped Giles, helped get Oz out, helped get Adam - he's been keeping the Hellmouth safe while you've been having your - your new college life and your boyfriend _stuff_ and - and helping your mom and you don't get to _do_ this anymore, Buffy! You don't get to threaten him _any more_." Xander had never shouted like that - had _never_ felt so angry, and Buffy blinked in shock and took a step back. Giles was staring at him, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment.

_*Love you pet, beautiful **mine** *_ from Spike, fierce and warm and comforting.

"Xander, he's -"

" _What_ is he, Buffy? You can't say 'soulless' 'cause that's not true. And you seem to forget that I can _see_ him - I can _feel_ him - everything he's thinking or doing. I _know_ he's not out there murdering people every night. He told me so and I _know_ it's true. He's _mine_ and you won't touch him and you won't treat him like shit anymore." 

Xander stopped, breathing hard - jumped when Spike's hand slid up his arm and took his shoulder. He turned gratefully under the slight pressure and was folded into Spike's arms, into _*leather, spice, smoke, mine my own love you*_ strong arms and solid body, comfort and _*home*_.

_*Lovely brave boy love you **love you** *_

"M'not a boy," Xander grumbled softly, his face tucked into Spike's neck, and Spike chuckled softly. 

"Course you're not." Spike kissed Xander's temple, and Xander felt the demon - felt the alien-ness of that face and nuzzled in deeper, not caring for a blissful moment what Buffy or Giles were doing.

"Xander -"

"You said you'd _try_ , Buffy." Xander turned in Spike's embrace, his own arms under the duster and tight around the slim waist. "He's been - one of us, Buffy. Fighting the fight."

"But how can you - _ahhh_!" Buffy made that frustrated noise, and held up her hand. "I know, I know. You can _feel_ him. But I _can't_ , Xander - how am _I_ supposed to trust him?"

"Because you trust me, maybe? Because you know me and know that I wouldn't put you or Willow, or _Dawn_ , or _any_ of you in danger? If you can't trust Spike, can you trust _me_?" 

Buffy looked down at the floor for a long moment, and then her fists slowly unclenched and she smiled a small, sad smile at Xander. "Yeah. I guess - I can trust you, Xander. Trusted you with my life before - I guess I can now. How about it, Giles?"

The Watcher still looked angry, and he slowly shook his head. "I'm not - happy with this. But six months - and the claim... Actions speak louder than words, Spike. If you - if you continue to show that you are in earnest with this - with helping us, then -"

"Then you'll what, Watcher? Condescend to notice me? I'm here for Xander, and him alone. I don't drain the lot of you because it would tear him apart. I don't let every demon in the Hellmouth carry on with their bloody stupid scheming because if the Hellmouth opens, _Xander_ gets hurt. You getting it? You live or die on _his_ say so, and no one else's. And the day you hurt him, you're fair game. No threats from you, Slayer, will _ever_ change that. And there's sod-all you can do about it, unless you plan on dusting me. And I think you know what happens then."

"That wasn't nice," Xander said, into the stunned silence that followed. He scratched his nails slowly up and down Spike's t-shirt clad back.

"M'not a nice man, pet. You know that."

"I know that. Nice to _me_."

"Well, yeah." Spike grinned at him, demon-eyed, ivory-fanged. 

_* **My** vampire love you always*_

_*Always*_

"So - we've told our deep dark secrets. Are we gonna go get this demon what took out the Watcher or what?" Buffy was shaking her head, looking frustrated, and Giles sighed and wandered back to the couch, sitting down heavily.

"You don't make this very easy, Spike."

"I don't make it anything, Slayer - it is what it is. All you lot have to do is accept it." 

Xander pressed a kiss to Spike's lips and pulled slowly away, and the demon shivered and was gone. _*Love love you nice now*_ Spike grinned at him, eyebrow up, head to one side, and Xander had to laugh. "Yeah, okay. Nice as the evil undead can be. Let's go demon-hunting, huh?"

"Don't mind if I do, pet," 

 

 

_________________________

The song on the radio is Missy Elliot - _One Minute Man_


	21. Two

It ended up taking until dark to figure out which demon had attacked Giles, and by that time Riley and Oz and the girls were at the shop as well. Dawn was at the hospital with Joyce. Xander made a mental note to go by there later - maybe he and Spike could sneak in - and Spike laughed through the link.

_*See her every night*_

Xander looked up from the book he was paging through, staring at him. _*You do?*_

_*Nice to me*_ Spike sent a flurry of images - himself, slumped despondently over Joyce's work-top, telling her about Dru as Joyce sprinkled mini-marshmallows into his hot chocolate. Joyce offering a drink, the night he'd come to make a deal with Buffy, nodding in confused politeness when he'd told her she didn't have anything he fancied. And Joyce in the hospital bed, bandage on her temple, dark circles under her eyes. She and Spike talking - Spike fetching her ginger-ale and watching her fall into a restless sleep.

_*Dawn's mum. Watching out for her*_.

Xander blinked - smiled suddenly, and Spike smiled back at the _*love you niiice vampire*_

"Sod off, you," Spike muttered, and Xander laughed.

"How do you get in?" he asked softly, and Spike closed the book he had been reading and groped for a cigarette.

"Cousin'a Clem's. That guy - got more family than the Queen Mum."

"Ah - Toth!" Giles exclaimed, and everyone looked up enquiringly. "Toth. Last surviving member of the Tothric clan. A very old and sophisticated line of demons."

"So, what, I discuss the latest fashions from Milan before I chop its head off?" Buffy asked.

"No, no - it simply means it is a tool-using demon. It will use a weapon of some sort instead of brute force." Giles shifted the book, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Also, very focused. And, well - its focus is obviously -"

"Buffy. So, where does it hang out and how hard can I kill it?" Riley asked, standing up. Spike rolled his eyes and got up as well, heading over to the balcony stairs and settling half-way up, trailing smoke. Willow made exaggerated fanning motions with her hand, frowning.

"It doesn’t posit any particular lair, but I think that, considering its very strong olfactory presence, we'll have little trouble finding it."

"Huh?" Riley asked.

"It stunk," Giles said, and put his book down. "In a 'piles of refuse' sort of way."

_*Fuck. Trip to the city dump*_ Xander looked mournfully down at this work boots. "I just got these, you know," he said, stretching his feet out towards Willow and Tara.

"Well, maybe you could - could tie plastic bags over your feet? Or - I could do a spell -" Willow rapidly ran through a number of possible spells under her breath as they got ready to go. Xander tried to ignore her, not particularly wanting his new work-boots to be turned into turtles or something. Tara, Willow and Anya were staying behind - they had volunteered to help get the shop ready for the Grand Opening if Giles would provide pizza and soda.

"Ah, a manly-man's outing!" Xander said, clapping his hands together. Buffy looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Well, okay, mostly manly with one very _not_ -manly member."

"She's more manly than Captain Cardboard," Spike said, and Riley frowned at him.

"Look who's talking, fang-" 

Buffy put her hand on his arm. "Let's just get going, okay, Riley? I need to get to the hospital before nine tonight."

Riley stared at her, then shrugged. "Sure, Buffy. Let's go." He took her hand and they walked out, Giles behind them. Oz looked at Xander and Spike. 

_*What?*_

_*Knows about the chip*_ from Spike, and a few images from that afternoon's discussion. Oz nodded - grinned.

"Hope he does something stupid," Oz said softly, and Spike laughed.

 

The dump did more than stink - it _oozed_ \- and Spike jumped over something gooey and greenish and pulled his duster a little tighter around his body.

"Fuck -" Xander did a little catch-step to avoid the same puddle and caught up, breathing through his mouth. Oz had morphed halfway to wolf then changed back, coughing.

"Think I'll just use my mostly-human senses this time," he wheezed. Buffy and Riley were disgusted as well, and Giles had put a handkerchief over his mouth and nose.

"What would make _anybody_ , even a demon, hang out _here_?" Buffy kicked at an old paint-can and sent it hurtling over a drift of garbage bags. There was an "Ow!" and they all stared at one another.

"All right, come out come out, whatever you are, so I can -"

"Hey, Clem," Xander said to the shuffling figure that scooted out into plain sight. 

Buffy deflated a bit from her fighting stance, looking over at Xander quizzically. "You _know_ him?"

"Yeah - Clem did my satellite hook-up for the TV."

"Hey, Xander. And Spike! Wow, never thought I'd run into _you_ here! And - and you must be Oz, got that whole 'wolf' aura' thing." The loose-skinned demon made little air-quotes, smiling at Oz. Oz nodded back. Spike snorted softly. "And - wow, could this be the Slayer? Wow - that's just amazing!" Buffy just stared, smiling feebly and doing a little wave. 

"What're you doing out here, Clem?" Spike asked.

"Ah - finding some stuff, you know -" Clem rummaged in the shopping cart that was listing over beside him and pulled out a small lamp with glass-bead fringe. "I hope you don't mind, Spike, but your crypt's vacant again and, well, it's a prime piece of real estate so I kinda - I kinda moved in. Need to furnish it, you know?"

"Yeah? Bully for you, then. Have at it, with my blessing." Spike lit a cigarette and Xander moved into the smoke, looking slightly ill. 

_*Stinks home want you*_ Spike thought, and Xander moved a little closer, brush of warm hand on Spike's wrist.

_*Soon promise*_

"So - what brings _you_ to the dump, Spike?"

"We're - we're looking for a demon. Tall, flowing robes, wielding a sort of stick-thing?" Giles said through the handkerchief.

"Oh? Oh! You mean - ah! Like that!" Clem ducked behind his shopping cart and as one the group whirled. Toth stood there, glowering. It raised its hand and bolt of energy crackled from the wand it was holding, exploding a bag of trash and pelting Clem with coffee grounds and potato peelings. "Ah!" Clem grabbed his shopping cart and wrenched it upright - began to push it rapidly away.

"Jesus!" Xander was going into a crouch - Oz as well, eyes black, claws extending from the tips of his fingers. Spike tossed his cigarette aside and let the demon out. Toth raised its arm again, pointing the wand at Buffy. Spike grinned. 

_*Maybe he'll actually hit her. Neat!*_

Giles was stumbling backwards, mouth open in shock. Riley was aiming his crossbow and Buffy was shifting into a fighting stance. 

"Look out!" Riley, maybe? _*Buffy!*_ from Xander, and he moved - shoved Buffy to one side. The energy bolt lanced into Xander, knocking him backwards, to the ground, and Spike roared, leaping at the demon. And - it was gone. Spike hit the ground and rolled upright, casting a wild look around. 

"Xander!" Buffy recovered from the shove and scrambled towards Xander, Riley right behind her.

_*Love wake up **Xander** *_ Spike moved, _fast_ \- reached Xander just as Oz did. Spike stroked one hand down Xander's cheek, listening, scenting. _*Strong heartbeat, no blood, love, love wake up*_ Gently, Spike shook Xander's shoulder.

Buffy crowded in beside Oz, panting a little. "Is he okay?" 

Spike snarled and Oz put his hand on Spike's shoulder, fear-scent and wolf-scent and _*pack safe*_ Xander's eyes moved under their lids - fluttered open slowly. They flashed green - the hyena's eyes.

"Xander? Pet, you all right?" Xander blinked slowly - looked at Spike, at Oz - focused on Buffy.

_* **Not pack** *_ slammed through the link so hard that Oz went halfway to wolf, growling, and Xander snarled and lunged at Buffy, knocking her back on her butt. Riley yelped and tried to catch her - went down on one knee behind her. Spike grabbed a handful of shirt and _yanked_ , pulling Xander back a foot.

"What on earth -!" from Giles.

"Xander, what -" _*Safe love calm safe safe*_

_*Not pack not pack **rival** hurt mine **kill** it*_ It was the hyena - purely the hyena - and Spike wrapped his arms around Xander's waist, hauling him back again as he made another attempt at Buffy and Riley.

"Xander, what is _wrong_ with you!" Buffy scrambled to her feet, unconsciously shaking off Riley's helping hand.

Oz moved fast, getting between her and Xander, who continued to struggle. "That wand - it did something. He's not -" and _*calm calm calm*_ from Oz.

_*Not pack drive it off kill it*_

" _No_ , Xander, stop it." Spike yanked Xander back further - forced him around and held his head in his hands. The green-glimmering eyes were furious - eerie - and Spike brought the demon out.

_*Pack leader **stop** *_ Xander growled - literally growled - and Spike growled back, letting his hands slide down to Xander's shoulders - shaking him just a little. "Stop it, Xander. No killing." Xander was shivering - panting a little - and he turned his head, his eyes narrowing, as Buffy took a step towards them.

_*Not pack not pack not pack*_ in a furious, frantic monotone.

"Slayer - stop! Wolfling's right - something happened. That bloody wand - he's not right."

"What do you mean? What - what's _wrong_ , exactly?" Giles advanced as well, and Xander twitched away from him. A tiny whine rose from his throat and Oz eyed the other three - crowded close against Xander's back, half wolf and just as panicky.

"I dunno, Watcher. It's - only the hyena in here. I think. I'm not getting - anything else." _*Xander, love - you there? Safe, you're safe, calm, calm, calm*_ Xander's hands had crept up and were on Spike's arms now, pulling him close. Spike went easily, arm around his shoulder, tucking Xander's head into his neck. Spike's hand on Xander's throat, just enough pressure, prick of fingernails. Showing dominance. Reassuring the hyena that he was safe, in the pack. Oz pushed close, and Xander reached out and ran his hand over Oz's hair - quick caress that seemed to reassure him further.

"It's that spell -" Riley said, and Spike snarled - tightened his arm around Xander as Xander made an effort to go for Riley.

"It's not the spell, you wanker, it's that Toth - that wand. What's the bloody wand _do_ , Watcher!"

"I hadn't - hadn't found that out yet," Giles said, and Spike hissed in frustration. Xander was growling again, his gaze going from Buffy to Riley to Giles, his body tense and quivering with fight/flight. Putting that impulse out so strongly into the link that Oz was losing control - sliding further into the wolf. Spike was fighting as well - desperately trying to keep the demon from taking over and joining Xander in protecting the pack - defending their territory. Trying _not_ to jump onto these invaders - these _humans_ \- and rip them to bloody shreds. Xander would never, never get over that.

_*Calm calm safe now, pack is safe*_ "Listen - Slayer - you get back, the three of you get back to the shop, find out what happened, what we have to do to _fix_ it. I can't let him go - you're not part of the pack - none of you are - he's ready to attack you."

" _What?_ " Buffy's voice was hard - furious, and she advanced three quick steps - froze when a sing-song wail quavered up from Oz, and the werewolf lost more humanity. Xander responded to that, letting loose the hunting shriek of the hyena and making Giles and Riley flinch.

"Watcher'll tell you - just go, before I lose control! We'll - fuck - we'll go find some fledges to kill; I'll see if we can wear him out and get him to the shop. Maybe he'll sleep. Just -" Xander lunged and Spike yanked him back, letting loose with a roar that froze all of them. He sank his fangs into Xander's throat and just held on, sending _*calm*_ and _*safe*_ and _* **stop** *_ as hard as he could, and finally he felt Xander's body relax under him - felt the incoherent muddle of rage and frustration and bloodlust that was coming from the hyena ease off into acceptance - into submission. He lifted his head, Xander's blood tingling through his mouth, and Buffy glared at him. Oz had wolfed out, and now stood stiff-legged, growling low in his throat, wolf's eyes flashing as green as Xander's, wolf fangs white and slavering in the faint light of the new moon. Giles looked grim - Riley mutinous, and Spike snarled silently at them.

"Fine, we'll go - why is _Oz_ \- we're going!" at Spike's warning hiss. "Come on guys, let's hurry." They jogged away, casting worried glances back over their shoulders, and Spike finally eased up - loosed his grip enough for Xander to step away, if he wanted to. He didn't. Oz came back to himself, shuddering. The full shift had shredded his clothes and he looked down ruefully at his naked self.

"Fuck Spike, he's - he's so _strong_ , in the link, I couldn't..."

"S'okay, wolfling. Let's get out of here - place is gonna choke me. Let's go _*hunt vamps*_

"Yeah. Good idea. Damnit, I liked that shirt."

_*Hunt pack safe*_ from Xander, and he bolted away, Spike and Oz on his heels. 

 

Hours later and they were in the eastern-most cemetery in Sunnydale. They'd just ripped through a nest of five fledges - third nest of the night - and Xander seemed to be calm now. There was blood on his mouth - on his hands - and Spike had just barely kept him from trying to _eat_ the last fledge, broken backed and gutted in the grass. 

_*Wouldn't like to remember **that** *_ Spike thought, and they all sprawled down in the grass near the river, panting. There'd been various lone demons, as well - all in all, a good night for the pack, a bad one for Sunnydale's creatures of the night. _*Can only be good for the 'Master' reputation - a werewolf and a...werehyena? Something. They knew he wasn't all human.*_ Oz went full wolf again and went to the water's edge, drinking, and Xander rose to follow. Spike grabbed him, pulling him back down.

"Maybe better not," he said, wondering if spell-bought longevity could keep Xander from a bout of Montezuma's Revenge. Who knew what got dumped into the river? Xander fell back easily, happily rolling into Spike - rolling _onto_ him, and the faint tingle of arousal that had sifted through the link all night suddenly kicked up sharply.

_*Pack leader take*_ Xander pushed his face into Spike's neck - licked there, then nipped gently at the claim mark. Spike shivered - rolled them both over again, pinning Xander to the cool, damp grass.

"Wanna, pet? You need to, don't you," he whispered, and Xander's eyes were wide and glowing - inhuman, beautiful.

"Ssspike," he whispered, _*want now me now*_

"Anything, love." Spike bent to kiss him - made it a long, slow kiss, leisurely exploring every inch of Xander's mouth. Tasting the blood there and licking it away. He didn't stop to think about it - this was pack, this was _Xander_ , and there was no way he would refuse him. Just about _couldn't_ , at this point. Their rampage through Sunnydale tonight had been...like old times. Only better, because he loved his hunting partners - trusted them - and knew they felt the same way about him. Very nearly paradise. _*'Cept it can't be anything good, this. Damn Toth and damn the Watcher - you bloody well don't go on a hunt with only half the facts.*_

Xander's hands were under the duster, fumbling at Spike's shirt - tearing it up the back. His fingers made fiery trails from shoulder blade to waist, nails scraping lightly.

_*Pack*_ faintly, from Oz, and Spike lifted his head, a wave of extra arousal going through him as he caught site of Oz. The werewolf was crouched a foot away, naked, eyes wide and sheened silver in the moonlight. His mouth was wet - his hair - and he licked his lips, watching them.  
"Wolfling - wanna...?" Oz ducked his head - leaned over, one hand flat on the grass. He kissed Spike - taste of almonds and rain, blood and magic. Beneath him, Xander squirmed, freeing a hand, and when Oz pulled back Xander's fingers were in his hair, tugging him down. Another kiss, equally long, and Spike couldn't help his hips moving, grinding down onto Xander; hard flesh and denim, friction making heat.

"Fuck, wolfling..." Spike whispered, and _*want mine pack*_ from Xander. Oz pulled back, slowly.

"I gotta - this isn't for me, Spike. I'm gonna get some clothes, get to the Magic Box, see what they've found. You - come on in a bit? Gonna be light soon." 

Spike could smell the arousal coming off Oz - could scent something else, as well, and he caught Oz's hand, stopping him. "What do you - don't understand, wolf."

Oz licked his lips - glanced down at Xander, who was stroking Oz's thigh. "What we did - it was good. It was..." Oz looked up, eyes searching for and finding the setting moon. _*Want*_ "It helped. I feel - good, now. But I'm not part of this. It just - wouldn't work. Gonna find my own, you know? Gonna find somebody doesn't mind a little weirdness and bring him home to meet...my family." 

_*Love you pack please*_ in the link, begging for understanding. And Spike _did_ understand. Understood completely. He reached up and trailed his fingers gently through Oz's hair - the indigo a little faded now - and smiled. 

_*Knew it would come to this. His choice. Doesn't change anything.*_ "Yeah. _*Love you*_ We'll be there in a while." Oz nodded - grinned suddenly, and then was the wolf, muzzle pointing to the moon and a howl wavering out. Xander joined him, raucous ululation, and Oz spun and was gone _*love you love you*_ fading into silence.

Spike looked after him for a moment - looked down at Xander. Hair ink-black in the moonlight, long strands webbed across his face and throat. Luminescent eyes, lips swollen. _*Beautiful boy my own **love** you*_ Spike bent down for another kiss, but after a moment Xander was wiggling out from beneath him, pushing the duster off Spike's shoulder and yanking at the shredded t-shirt.

_*Skin taste you want pack pack*_

"Yeah," Spike breathed, uncaring that someone - anyone - could see them. He got boots and jeans off, Xander's hands everywhere, and had to push him flat to the ground, straddling his hips to get Xander's work boots off. Xander's fingernails scratched up his back - sank into his hips, and Spike's hands were shaking. He swung off - pushed Xander down again and popped open the button on his jeans - got the zipper down and then Xander was pushing at jeans and underwear, wiggling out of them, pulling his shirt off and launching himself at Spike. Spike let himself fall flat in the grass, the cool stems tickling deliciously along his sides - between his thighs.

_*Want want pack want mine*_ from Xander, without pause and without thought - the hyena at it's most basic. Xander _tasted_ , every inch, licking in broad strokes and tiny dabs along hips and thighs, belly, ribs, chest. He sank his face into the crease of Spike's thigh - nuzzled further, and Spike hissed in delight as Xander took his cock in his mouth, licking slowly up and down the length, pulling the head in and sucking.

Spike could feel the head of Xander's cock pushing into his thigh - felt the coolness from the moisture that trailed there, and he sat up - scooted out from under Xander and got behind him. Xander knelt there, his hands fisted in the grass, and Spike got him up, hands and knees. Kissed and licked his way down Xander's back, feeling the quivering of tense muscles. He let his tongue trail down, between Xander's buttocks and Xander whimpered, thrusting back, spreading his legs wider. Spike teased his tongue along the warm, damp skin - sucked Xander's balls into his mouth for a moment and then moved back up, pressing in lightly, lightly. Xander leaned back, a breathy moan coming from him, and Spike pushed his tongue in _hard_ , stabbing in as deep as he could. He gripped the heavy muscles of Xander's thighs in his hands, pulling his legs wider, pushing _deeper_ , and Xander was panting now, making a growling encouraging noise, hips rolling and bucking under Spike's mouth.

_*Now now now*_ in the link, flashing image of Spike, up on the balls of his feet and thrusting _in_ , and Spike gasped.

"Fuck, yeah -" _*mine*_ Spike crouched behind Xander - made a small slit in his palm with a sharp nail. Blood wasn't the best lubricant, but it was better than nothing. They'd used up the small tube he'd had in the duster last week. He caressed himself, slicking the blood over his cock and then got up behind Xander - pushed in, quickly, before the drying blood got too tacky. Pushed into grasping heat, slick and tight. Xander moaned, arching into him, the rough, rapid pace exactly what the hyena wanted. Spike balanced himself, his thighs on either side of Xander's hips and thrust _hard_ , feeling that place in Xander's body rub over the tip of his cock - feeling Xander shudder around him, muscles quivering with strain and - 

_*Want hard want*_

"Fuck...so hot, love..." Spike could smell the sharp green smell of grass as Xander's hands tore at the blades beneath them. The ground was damp - muddy - and the wet-earth smell was thickening as they both furrowed the ground. The summer air was like a warm blanket across his back, Xander like living fire, and Spike pounded harder, his right hand leaving bloody smears along Xander's ribs, both hands gripping tight enough to bruise. Xander pushed back, his legs going somehow wider, a whimper building in his throat, ratcheting up to gasping cries.

_*Yours yours **take** now*_ and Spike brought one hand around to Xander's cock, stroking furiously, and he leaned over and morphed.

_* **Mine** mine always*_ and Xander arched his head to one side. Spike sank his fangs in, growling, and the scalding jet of semen across his hand was enough to bring Spike's own orgasm; they shuddered together, mindless rhythm. Xander howled, and Spike drank blood awash with _*love*_ and _*magic*_ and _*pack*_ , tasting of salt and sweet and Xander. When it was over, they both sprawled in the grass, panting, and Xander rolled over and nuzzled in close, the link a warm, wordless haze of love and contentment.

_*Love you*_ Spike stroked Xander's sweat-slippery back, breathing deeply of their mingled scents. Xander caught Spike's hand in his and slowly licked the still-bleeding cut on his palm - closed his eyes and made a sound almost like a purr, the blood bright on his lips. Away towards the river a bird called - insistent _cheetcheetcheet_ of a goldfinch - and Spike sighed. "C'mon, pet, time to head back. Sun's coming up."

_*Love you sleep*_ from Xander, and Spike sat up - stood up - dislodging Xander and making him sound a half-hearted growl.

"Fuck." Spike looked down at himself - mud, grass, blood - and Xander wasn't any better. Spike looked out at the river - sighed again. "C'mon." _*Bath*_ He pulled Xander up by his arm and dragged him down to the river's edge. The water was frigid around his ankles and Spike hesitated for one second - plunged ahead, pulling Xander along behind. They waded in, Xander struggling to escape, the current pushing strongly at their legs. When the water was up to Spike's thighs, he turned and let Xander go. Xander had been pulling back hard, growling, and when Spike let go he flailed for a moment then went down, going completely under.

_*Cold **cold**!*_ and Xander surged up, straight into Spike, knocking him back. They both went under that time and Spike was glad he didn't need to breathe - he didn't think he could have, with the cold constricting his chest and making him shudder all over.

_*Cold*_ It sounded mournful this time, and when Spike got to his feet and pulled Xander up, the human's teeth were chattering and he was looking a bit blue around the edges.

"I know. M'sorry, pet, but we needed to clean up." Spike scrubbed at dried blood and mud - plucked leaves out of Xander's hair and then pushed him towards the shore. "Clean enough." _*Clothes*_  
Xander waded ashore and stood shivering, his arms clenched tight around his ribs and his hair running little streams down his back and chest. He looked utterly miserable and Spike cast around for his ripped t-shirt.

"Come on now, love, let me fix you up." Spike used the t-shirt as a towel, rubbing briskly, and after a few minutes Xander was mostly dry and his shivering had eased up. Spike had him lean over so he could wring out his hair, and then he swept up Xander's clothes and pushed them into his arms. "Get dressed, pet - gotta get going." Spike dried himself as best he could with the now wet t-shirt and then yanked on jeans and socks and boots. He picked up his duster and brushed grass off it.

_*Home tired hungry*_ Xander was leaning against a tree, eyes shut, and Spike agreed with him completely.

"Me too, pet," _*home soon love you*_ "C'mon, time to see if the Watcher can fix this. Let's run, Xander - warm us up." Xander pushed away from the tree - lifted his head as if scenting.

_*Not pack*_

"That's most of the world, love." _*Wolfling*_ he sent, and an image of the Magic Box, and Xander yipped quietly and trotted up the slope to the cemetery proper - broke into a run, and Spike ran with him, shoulder to shoulder. Above them, the sky was paling towards sunrise; frail green and gossamer yellow, streaked with wisps of clouds. The goldfinch called again, chasing them away. 

 

They burst in through the doors of the Magic Box, panting a little, thoroughly warm - straight into a fight. The demon stood in the midst of the shop, grappling with Buffy. Tara and Willow were holding hands, chanting something, and there seemed to be a sort of cloud of pinpricks of light around the demon's head, distracting it. It was shaking its head, blinking - half blind from the spell. Oz was in the midst of a leap, landing squarely on the demon's back, claws shredding. Riley was on the floor, at an awkward angle against a bookshelf, and Giles was helping him up. Xander growled _*Pack*_ and threw himself forward, crashing into the demon's legs. As they fell, Oz scrambled free and whirled around, ready to dive back in. Buffy kicked the demon in the throat, making it writhe and gag, 

"Sword!" Anya yanked a sword down from a rack behind the counter and tossed it awkwardly to Buffy, who caught it and brought it down hard, through Toth's chest. An ear-piercing shriek reverberated out of the demon and it clawed at the sword - went limp, dead. Xander sidled up close to Oz, leaning into him - put his face down into Oz's hair, scenting, reassuring himself.

_*Wolf safe pack*_

"Well, _that_ was neat," Spike said, and pulled out a cigarette. Blood was pooling out from under the demon's body and Buffy wrinkled her nose, stepping away.

"Riley, you okay?" she asked, going over to where Giles had him propped up.

"Sure, Buff. Just - whacked my head a little. Mr. Giles says I'm fine." Giles nodded, a little smile on his face, and Buffy smiled back.

"Wow. Great spell guys, by the way," Buffy said to Willow, hauling Riley to his feet and guiding him to a chair. He slumped there, holding his head.

"Yeah - that was cool, wasn't it? Like a swarm of bees!"

"Well, it is _called_ 'Swarm of Bees'," Anya said, coming out from behind the counter. She eyed the various books, statues, and miscellaneous paraphernalia that had been strewn around in the fight and sighed. "And everything was perfect, too, before that jerk came in, wand all blasting."

"Speaking of wands -" Giles looked around, and Spike strode over - scooped the wand up from where it lay half under a display shelf.

"This thing? Think it only works for Toth?" Spike pointed it at Buffy, who flinched.

"Spike -"

"Ah, don't worry, Watcher - I won't fry your Slayer." Spike swung the wand casually, moving over to where Xander and Oz were still standing. Xander pressed up against him, looking distrustfully at the others.

"You figure out what this did to Xander?"

"Yes, actually, we did. It seems the wand is a ' _ferula gemina_ '. It splits a person into two halves - separating various aspects of their personality. I think what Toth wanted to do was separate Buffy into a 'Slayer' Buffy and a - a 'Not-Slayer' Buffy. Then, he would kill the weaker of the two. If one dies, they both die."

Spike raised his eyebrow - looked at the wand. "What I wouldn't have given to have _this_ little gimcrack," he murmured. "Catch." He tossed it towards Buffy, who snatched it out of the air and held it, frowning.

"You mean - you don't wanna - use it?" Buffy rolled her eyes. "What am I _saying_?"

Spike shrugged - took a long drag and hugged Xander a little closer. "Nah. I don’t need a magic wand to take _you_ on, Slayer."

_*Hungry tired go home*_ Xander slumped against him, eyes half-shut.

"Soon, love," Spike said, smoothing his hand through Xander's still damp hair. "So - if this makes _two_ of someone - where's the other Xander?"

"Well - it didn't say, exactly, _how_ it makes two, so he could be - anywhere. We know he's not dead 'cause - this Xander is still here, but..." Willow looked anxious, and she and Tara sat down at the lighted table, shoving some books aside. "We were gonna do a locator spell, just before -" Willow gestured to the dead Toth, grimacing.

"Well, let's get on with it. Might be Xander - the other one - is in some kinda trouble or something." Spike pulled Xander close to him, doing his best to lock down the fear that threatened to swamp him. Xander - another one, some aspect of _this_ one, something - had been out on the damn Hellmouth all night, alone.

_*Why can't I hear him? Why isn't he calling? Oh fuck, fuck...*_

_*Calm safe*_ from Oz, even though the werewolf looked a bit freaked, as well. Tara was gathering some herbs into a small bowl when suddenly the bell jangled and Dawn burst into the shop - towing a disheveled, frightened-looking Xander behind her.

"Dawn!" Buffy hurried forward, and Xander took one look at Spike and threw himself forward, arms going around the vampire's naked waist, head buried in Spike's neck.

"Xander, love -" _*Safe safe safe*_

"Oh God, Spike, God, I'm - I'm s-so glad you're here, I thought -" Xander gulped - coughed. His voice was thick with tears. "I can't hear you, I can't hear Oz, I thought you were - I thought you were all _dead_ , I woke up in the dump and everybody was gone, I thought - Spike, Spike -"

"Shhh, love, shhh, I've got you now, you're safe - we're all safe, got you now..." Spike wrapped his arms around the new Xander, holding him tight, stroking his hands through the human's hair, trying to soothe the shivering body. Oz tugged the old Xander close, trying to distract him.

"Dawn, what's going on? Where did - what happened?" Everyone crowded around Dawn, who looked pleased with her sudden importance.

"I just woke up and somebody was knocking and I thought maybe you'd forgotten your key, Buffy, so I came downstairs and it was Xander. He was really freaked out - he kept babbling about everybody being dead, and -" Dawn took a shaky breath and Buffy put her arm around her sister's shoulders, hugging her close.

"Anyway, I tried to call his house and nobody answered, and then I called here and it was busy, and he was getting really - upset - so I thought we should just come down here." She leaned into Buffy - looked down at the floor. " _Eewww!_ " Is that _blood?_ Is it - _dead?_ " Buffy's eyes went wide and she tugged Dawn away from the dead Toth.

Spike heard what Dawn said, but concentrated on the Xander shuddering in his arms. _*Love safe now safe love you*_ Xander didn't respond, and Spike gently put his hand under his chin - lifted his head up and looked into bloodshot, teary eyes. "You can't hear me at all - even now?"

" _No!_ I can't hear - either of you. And I know you can't hear me or you would have - God, it's - I _hate_ it, Spike. Can you - can you fix it?" he whispered, and Spike hugged him close.

"Course I can, love. Well, I think the witches can, or the Watcher. They know what to do. Right?" Spike glared over at the group clustered around the table, and Giles took off his glasses, polishing them sketchily on his shirt-tail.

"Yes, we know what to do - it's a simple spell, really, to reunite them. We just need to make a circle - Riley, Buffy, help me clear a place, and Willow, you look up the proper sigil, will you please? In the ' _Crawford's Demonica_ ', I believe."

As they swung into action, Spike gently tugged at Xander, and they sank to the floor. The new Xander didn't let go his death-grip on Spike, and the old one crouched down with Oz, studying his twin with a bewildered expression. He reached out and hesitantly touched the new Xander's cheek - ran grubby fingers through his hair. The Xander in Spike's arms shivered and looked up - smiled tremulously at his double.

"Wow. It's kinda - kinda weird, to see me like that. I look like that? It's - different than in a mirror."

"Yeah, you look like that, only usually much cleaner. He - you - were a bit...messy, tonight."

_*Mine pack me...pack?*_ The old Xander seemed puzzled - a little afraid - and Oz settled down cross-legged, tugging him down with him, arm around his shoulder.

"Yeah, that's you, Xander. It's okay - we'll fix this soon." Oz rubbed the tense shoulder under his hand, trying to soothe the hyena. The old Xander leaned against him, sighing, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

_*Love you*_ Spike thought, directing it at Xander _and_ Oz, and he pressed a soft kiss to _his_ Xander's temple. "Love you. We'll get this fixed - get home soon. No work for you today, pet."

"Oh - it's okay. Before we left the house I called his boss. X-xander was all worried about missing work so I told him he was sick. He seemed really nice." Dawn came up the stairs, skirting widely around the demon corpse. She hesitated, then sat down across from the little group on the landing. The old Xander lifted his head marginally, scenting her, then relaxed.

_*Pack pretty*_ he thought muzzily, and Oz laughed.

"What?" Dawn asked, looking a little upset.

"Nothing, just - Xander said - this Xander - " Oz hugged his Xander a little. "He thinks of you as part of our pack. And - he said you were pretty."

"Oh. Oh?" Dawn looked confused for a minute and then grinned. "This is so cool! I _never_ get to be around for the really interesting stuff! Now this! And a couple weeks ago I helped Buffy in a Slayer-related cover-up, when we didn't tell mom she got staked. I could _so_ go on patrol!"

Oz grinned at her, and Spike rolled his eyes - looked around for someplace to put out his cigarette. He finally ground it out on the sole of his boot and shoved the butt into his pocket. _*Gotta remember to get those things out of there. Pockets are gettin' gritty. Hurry up, Watcher - my boy needs to go home*_

"Maybe you should learn some moves before you try patrolling, Bit," Spike said, and Dawn frowned at him.

"Moves?"

"Yeah - you know - some kicks and things. Don't want to go down to the first vamp that pops up."

"Oh." Dawn crossed her arms, looking disappointed. "Buffy'll never teach me anything. She says I should just stay home safe."

"She's your big sister, Dawn, that's her job, to thwart you." The new Xander smiled at Dawn and snuggled a little closer to Spike. "I'll teach you some stuff if you want, though."

Dawn brightened. "Really? You mean that?"

"Sure, Bit. We all can. After all, you saved the day here, bein' so quick to get my boy down here - taking care of him an' all."

"He was just - you were so scared, is all," Dawn said softly, and the new Xander shivered a little.

"I'm - I'm alone in here." He pointed at his head. "I haven't been that way for - a long time. It's... scary. Scary not being able to hear S-spike, or Oz or...myself. I hate it." His voice cracked a little, and Spike hugged him close.

"It's all right love, nearly over," Spike whispered. Dawn reached out and patted the new Xander's knee, smiling gently at him. Over by the training-room door, Giles climbed to his feet, chalk in hand, and surveyed the large sigil he had sketched on the floor. Willow stood nearby with a book in her hands.

"Is that it?" Giles asked, and she looked down at the book.

"Yup - perfect. Time to do the spell. Guys? You ready?"

"Past ready," Spike said, and he got up, pulling the new Xander up with him, reaching down and catching the old Xander's hand and pulling him up as well. "C'mon then, let's do this. You two - hold on to each other." Oz stood as well, and the new Xander took his double's hand - looked inquiringly at Willow.

"What - what do we have to do?"

"Just stand in the center, and I'll say the words. It's a really simple spell. You both want to be together, and all the energy from the wand is working to keep you apart. All I have to do is dispel it and you'll go back together naturally."

"You sure, Red?" Spike asked, following his Xanders over to the chalk design. Oz and Dawn stood on the steps, watching.

"I'm sure, Spike. Don't - don't worry about it. _Wow_. It's really amazing!" Willow was studying her friend closely, and Spike stifled a growl. The old Xander had no such inhibitions and he snarled at her, pulling his twin close.

"Why is he -"

"You're not pack, Red. He doesn’t trust you. The hyena doesn't."

"Oh. He doesn't? But - but Xander and I are friends!"

"The hyena isn't Xander...not really." Spike said, watching the new Xander maneuver himself and his double into the center of the sigil. _*Just Xander without a conscious. Xander - as a vampire, almost. Lovely boy*_ Spike grinned a little to himself, thinking of that. 

"Are you sure you want to do this, Spike? I mean - look at them! Imagine the possibilities, _two_ of them, in bed..." Anya trailed off thoughtfully, eyeing the two, and Spike raised a smirk for her, eyebrow going up.

"Well now, that _is_ a very...attractive idea. Hadn't thought of that." Spike completely ignored the various groaning and/or disgusted noises coming from Buffy, Riley, and Giles. He grinned over at the two, then shook his head at the terrified look that was coming over the new Xander's face. "But I want my own back, all in working order. The hyena's too -wild - to be out without Xander keeping him in check." The new Xander relaxed marginally, and Spike ground his teeth in frustration, hating that he couldn't reassure him through the link.

"It really is incredible," Riley said from his chair. "Don't you just want to lock them in separate rooms and do experiments?" The room was silent, everyone staring at him, and Spike stalked over to the ex-soldier and let the demon out to snarl straight into Riley's face.

"Don't even fucking think it, you _bastard_. Nobody touches my boy." Riley flinched away - looked angry at himself.

"Just thinkin' out loud, there. Back off."

"Fucking tosser," Spike hissed, and shrugged away from the restraining hand Buffy put on his arm. He marched grimly over to Willow, fighting to get the demon under control. He finally pushed it away, human again, and Willow swallowed and shifted minutely away from him. "C'mon and do it, Red - past time."

"R-right, okay. No problem." She cleared her throat nervously - shut the book and concentrated briefly. "Let the spell be ended." The Xanders shimmered, as if they were under water, and Spike felt a moment of vertigo. And then they were one, and -

_*Spike?*_

_*Love you love you safe now*_

_*Thank_ **God** love you Oz love you* Spike took two long strides and had Xander in his arms, the human holding him so tight it was a good thing the vampire didn't need to breathe.

"Shhh, love, it's all right now." _*Safe safe got you love you*_ and _*Love you*_ from Oz.

"Well. I, for one, am glad that this is over." Giles yawned, covering his mouth, and looked bleakly around the store. "I have to clean this up. I've put up fliers - the Grand Opening is today and really, I can't delay it any longer." The older man rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, and Dawn bounced down the steps.

"I can help you, Giles - I don't have to be to school for another hour, and my first period is study hall, anyway, I can miss it. Let me help, please?"

"Dawn -" Buffy said, then her shoulders slumped in defeat at the look of pleading Dawn turned on her. "Okay, just this once. You did really good with the - with Xander. I guess you can if you _promise_ to go straight to school when it's time."

"Aren't you gonna be here?" Buffy yawned, covering her mouth.

"I'm gonna go see mom, and then...I've got some stuff I've got to do on campus. You'll be okay here with Giles."

"And me. I may as well stay - no clients today." Anya picked up a book with half the pages crushed and vainly tried to smooth them flat. Spike looked over at Oz, running soothing hands up and down Xander's back.

_*Love you love you never leave* ___in the link, insistent and heartbreaking, and he just wanted to be _home_. "Ready to go, wolfling?"

"Yeah - I brought the van. I'll drive you guys home and then -" Oz looked around the shop. "I'm workin' today, so - I'll be home later."

"Sorry, Giles, but Tara and I both have classes this afternoon, so I think we're gonna go home and get a nap in before class. We'll be back over as soon as we're done - to help with the rush." Giles looked at her. "I'm sure there'll be a rush! Especially if you wear your wizard hat!"

Buffy snickered and Giles looked affronted. "I don't think -" Giles started, and Spike tugged gently at Xander - got him walking towards the door and Oz's van. As they went up the steps, there was a light touch at his arm. Spike looked over to see Tara, proffering his blanket.

"I thought you m-might need this," she said softly, and Spike smiled at her.

"Thanks, Glinda. And - tell Red thanks for me. For both of us."

"Sure, Spike." Tara handed over the blanket - gave Spike an enquiring look. "Uh, Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened t-to your shirt?" 

Spike looked down at himself reflexively - grinned at her. "Oh - that. You really wanna know?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively, doing his best come-hither look, and Tara blushed and backed up a step.

"Oh - uh, n-no, I guess I don't really wan-wanna know. Bye!" She turned and scurried back down the steps and Spike hugged Xander close, swinging the blanket around them both.

_*Love you always safe safe home*_ he thought, including Oz, and the three of them walked out into the sunlight, going home.


	22. Remembering

Spike stirred in his sleep - moved his head a little, rubbing his cheek against Xander's stomach, and Xander ran his fingers gently through tangled, white-blond hair. Spike settled again, motionless, but Xander continued the gentle caress - meshed his fingers with Spike's where they lay on Xander's thigh. He was supposed to be asleep too, but he couldn't settle. So many things were running through his head - so many memories and moments. Oz had left a CD playing in the living room and the music came through to him softly. The ever-present sea-breeze blew through the window, puffing the curtains out, and the late-afternoon sun was dappled green and gold through the trees. Spike glowed, the diffused light making him otherworldly, all creamy-gold. The inhuman beauty that he wore so easily seemed out of place against the blue and green striped sheets, and Xander smiled fondly down at him from his half-sitting position - blinked at a sudden prickling in his eyes.

_*No, don't do that. Think about - something good. Something...happy. Think about anything but...*_ Xander shut his eyes - pushed his mind away from the misery of the day and cast back. Back to the beginning of October, and that incident with Tara's family.

_"...state of shock at flick of switch_   
_(mindless) into the cloudburst overhead_   
_I wanna get my face wet_   
_been buried in the sand for years_   
_(headlong) into the cloudburst naked_   
_there's really no escaping it_   
_there's gonna be a cloudburst here.."_

 

_"But what **kind** of demon is she?" Anya asked, and Tara's dad looked at her with something like revulsion on his face._

_"What **kind?** What does it matter? Evil is evil. She just has to come home, **now** , before things - get bad."_

_"No, I'd like to know what kind as well," Giles said, coming out from behind the counter and sending a rather Ripperish look at the other man. Tara stood miserably, her eyes brimmed with tears._

_"There's lots of different kinds of demons," Anya went on, her voice slipping into lecture mode. "Some are evil and some are considered useful members of society." She glanced proudly at the others and continued. "Let's see, there's -" As Anya started rattling off various types of demons, Spike leaned in close to Xander, fingers rubbing in the small of his back._

_***Human - all human*** _

_***Yeah*** Xander sent Spike a brief image from months' earlier - Tara's soul, gleaming gold and green and blue, and Spike nodded._

_"Yeah - tell the Slayer," Spike murmured, then he sauntered over to where Tara and Willow were standing._

_"I think I got your number, mate," he said, interrupting Anya and looking narrow-eyed at Mr. Maclay. "You just use this little 'demon' ploy to keep the women-folk in line, don't you? A little lie to make sure they stay where they belong, eh? She's no demon, and I can prove it." Tara and Willow were both staring at him now, and Giles had a gleam of something like amusement in his eyes. Xander touched Buffy's arm - drew her close with a jerk of his head._

_"I've seen her - she's all human. Just play along, okay?" Buffy looked at him - opened her mouth - nodded._

_" **Prove** it? There's nothing to **prove** , I **know**!" Tara's father sneered. Behind him, Tara's brother and cousin looked incredulous - furious._

_Spike tapped Tara on the shoulder. "Sorry 'bout this, Glinda," he said, and drew back and punched her. Then he yelled and grabbed his head in his hands. "Bloody **hell** that hurts!"_

_"Ow!" Tara yelped - put her hand to her already-swelling lip._

_Willow gaped at Spike - blinked - then shot a triumphant look at the father. "That hurt! Tara, it hurt!"_

_"Y-yeah it d-d-did! Oh!" Tara stared at Willow - was suddenly grinning, and Giles cleared his throat, fighting a smile himself. Spike moaned and rubbed at his head and Xander made ' **awww** ' noises and pulled him into a one-armed hug._

_***Win an Oscar*** _

_***Quiet, you*** _

_" **That** proves that you're lying. If there were any demon in Tara, it wouldn't have hurt Spike to do that. So I suggest that you leave." _

_Mr. Maclay stared at Giles- at his daughter - and puffed himself up like a toad. "She belongs with her **family** , at **home** and you bunch aren't gonna keep her from us."_

_" **Family?** " Buffy looked indignant. "You want to take her home, Mr. Maclay, you go right ahead." Buffy crossed her arms - took on an expression that had sent fledges and Fyarl demons running. "But you'll have to go through me to get her." Tara gasped, and Willow grinned, and Dawn bounced up next to Buffy - copied the stance and the stare so well that Xander had to stifle a giggle._

_"Me, too."_

_"If you little girls think -" Mr. Maclay started, and Giles stepped up as well, glasses tucked into his pocket and his eyes absolutely Ripper._

_"Not just little girls here, Mr. Maclay," he said, and the other man took a step back._

_"We're with Buffy, too," Xander said, stepping up on the other side of Dawn. Spike was at his back - morphed into the demon and snarled - and Tara's brother and cousin jumped and huddled together, round-eyed. The street door opened behind them, the bell jangling._

_"And me. Even though being a demon does have its perks," Anya said, hefting a suspiciously new-looking 'antique' dagger she had been marking down to half price._

_"What **is** this!" Mr. Maclay barked, his voice a little strained, and he jumped at the quiet voice at his back._

_"Whatever it is, I'm with them, too." Oz, standing in the door, wolf's eyes and a snarl lifting his lip, and Spike laughed - cut it off abruptly as Xander elbowed him._

_***Headache***_

_"This is **family** , Mr. Maclay, and Tara is part of it." Buffy narrowed her eyes. "So I suggest you leave. She's already home." Tara was weeping silently now, clinging to Willow who was stroking her hair and whispering to her. Oz skirted around the Maclays and joined the group, and finally the others broke - turned and began to shuffle out of the store. Tara's cousin turned back, a look of - regret? Or perhaps it was desire - desire to find the strength that Tara had found._

_"Are you happy now?" she snapped, and Tara looked at her - looked at Willow, a smile of pure bliss on her face, making her glow. In that moment, despite the tears and the swollen lip, she was the most beautiful woman Xander had ever seen._

_"Yes," she said._

_Later, when Buffy had taken Dawn home, and Giles and Willow were in a heated discussion about a spell, and Oz - who'd been brought up to speed but was pretending nicely - was making Spike a cup of tea, Tara came over to where Xander and Spike were sitting on the wrought-iron staircase. Spike was leaning back between Xander's legs, getting his temples massaged, taking full advantage of being the 'hurting hero'. Tara had smiled at them, taken the handkerchief full of ice off her lip, and leaned in and kissed Spike softly on the cheek._

 

_*Drama queen*_ Xander thought, smiling down at Spike, tracing the scarred eyebrow with one finger. Spike's hand tightened on his for a moment - he burrowed a little closer, and one leg edged over Xander's knees. Xander sighed in contentment - listened to the distant rush of the sea and closed his eyes, remembering other things. Remembering the troll, and how it had come rampaging into the Bronze, shouting for ale and banging into Spike, making him scratch the cue ball. Spike had stood up fast, cursing, and glared up at the furious troll.

_"Watch yourself, mate!"_

_"I must have ale! And babies!"_

_"For babies you need the hospital -" Spike started, and Xander, who had been wondering whether or not to try and get the troll out of the club, yanked on his arm._

_"Stop that! No babies!"_

_"Weeell..." Spike rubbed his chin, tilted his head at the troll. "They do this onion thing here, s'brilliant -"_

_"You cannot appease me!" The troll shouted, and things went rapidly downhill from there. This time it was Willow and Anya to the rescue, except that they - or maybe Willow - had called the troll in the first place. While Giles gave Willow what Spike referred to as 'a proper dressing-down', Anya reluctantly told them the tale of Olaf, Aud, D'Hoffryn, and how to become a Vengeance Demon in one easy step._

 

Eyes still closed, Xander smiled, his fingers never leaving off their slow petting of Spike's hair. A ghost of sound - faint, faint purr - rumbled up from the vampire. The troll-incident had been...right after Riley left for good. That was _not_ a happy memory, but mostly because of how much it had hurt Buffy. Xander and Oz had been happy to see the ex-soldier go. So had Spike. He had, in fact, made sure Riley would never come back. Xander frowned - sighed. No point in trying - like it or not, the memory spooled out in his mind, and he was obliged to re-live it. _*I don't want to think about this, but I don't want to think about...today, either. Fuck, I just want to forget...everything.*_

_"Come out of your shell_   
_and look at the sea_   
_it may be just as well_   
_you stayed here with me_   
_private hell at turn of a key_   
_(blindly) into the cloudburst overhead_   
_I wanna get my face wet_   
_been buried in these hands for years..."_

 

 

_Spike had been acting - odd - for two nights, and the third night, Saturday, Xander and Oz had decided to wait up for him - make him talk. Spike was a little better at manipulating the link then Xander, and **much** better than Oz, and he'd been hiding something. Xander was prepared to sit on him while Oz played Billy Ray Cyrus' **Achy Breaky Heart** on repeat until he cracked. Xander declined to ask **why** Oz had a Billy Ray Cyrus CD in his collection, and Oz just grinned and pretended it was Devon's._

_They sat up watching a frenetic Bollywood movie on TV - Indian woman and men in amazing costumes, leaping and singing and swooning to sitar and skin drums. Oz occasionally pointed out a religious reference that made the plot, to him at least, heretical, and Xander just nodded wisely and watched cleavage and bare chests with equal appreciation. There was popcorn, a leftover mix of mini Halloween candy bars, and Spike's jealously guarded Jaffa Cakes spread out on the foot of the fold-out bed._

_Around four a.m. Spike came home, announcing his presence a mile away with the grumbling roar of the DeSoto and something cacophonous and British on the stereo. The link had been full of bloodlust and anticipation and what Xander had come to recognize as satiation. Before-and-after-the-hunt feelings that he didn't think about too closely, most of the time. Tonight, as Spike parked the car and climbed out, aware of them, the link began to close down and Xander sent a ***Stop!*** before he even thought about it. Spike came in the front door and stood there, eyeing them._

_***Tell*** Xander thought, watching him, and Spike hesitated - took off his duster and slung it across the back of the battered recliner they'd recently acquired. Flung himself down into the same chair and looked broodingly at the TV for a moment._

_"Tell what, pet?"_

_"C'mon, Spike," Xander said softly._

_***No secrets*** from the soldier, and -_

_***Pack*** from Oz._

_Spike scrubbed his hands through his hair, disordering it and making it stick up in all directions. "Right. I - found out something about G.I. Joe." Spike stopped, looking at them, so serious and sober that Xander felt a little lurch of fear._

_***Tell, love.*** _

_"Remember, Xander, I told you people pay to have vamps feed off 'em?"_

_"Yeah..." Xander said, frowning, and then he and Oz both froze as Spike sent them a flurry of images. A warehouse somewhere near the docks. A room; filthy, dark, crowded. Riley sprawled on a broken-legged couch, a half-dressed vampire woman feeding from his arm, a naked one astride him. Riley's jeans were around his thighs - his free hand was clutched so hard on the second vamps' hips that he had drawn blood. She was moving languidly, obviously impaled on Riley. His mouth was pressed to her breast, and blood was there, streaking down her belly, dripping from his chin. Xander shook his head, as much to purge the image as in disbelief._

_"Oh my **God**. Spike -"_

_***Sick*** from Oz, and Spike looked sharply at him. _

_Oz looked back. "He's playing a fucking stupid game."_

_"Got that right, wolf."_

_"So - how'd you find out?" Xander asked, and Spike looked - embarrassed?_

_"Well...been going 'round to the Slayer's house every night, haven't I? Her mum's worried, and the Bit's worried... So I go 'round, make sure everything's...alright there." Spike scrubbed at his hair again - made a half-hearted effort to get a cigarette out of the duster and gave up. "And - couple nights ago, I saw that bastard heading down to the docks. He looked - nervous. So I followed him."_

_They all sat in silence for a moment, then Xander connected the rather blank look on Spike's face with the near-silent link. "What did you do, Spike?" he asked softly, and Spike was on his feet, snarling, the demon out in seconds._

_***Rage hate kill it*** The demon in the link strong enough to make Oz flicker halfway to the wolf.  
"I **fixed** it, Xander. He could've been turned, any time. And then just waltz in there, Joyce and the Niblet all unsuspecting - I **fixed** it. Fixed **all** those bastards." His voice had started off loud but then had sunk away to almost nothing, to a hissing rasp that made the hair stand up on the back of Xander's neck. Beside him Oz shifted, snarling just a little. _

_The link was heading towards incoherency - the images were bloodier and starting to become disconnected. Not Riley and vampire whores, anymore, but other soldiers - another place, and Xander shot to his feet and advanced on Spike - got his arms around him and held him, hard. "Love, it's all right..." ***Safe safe always safe love you*** Spike was shivering - breathing hard - and Xander tugged him over to the bed - eased him down. Spike hunched there, leaning into Xander's embrace, one hand creeping out to Oz and clenching down when Oz slipped his now-human hand into Spike's._

_"Just - tell us what happened, okay?" Xander smoothed the rumpled hair - kissed Spike's temple, and Spike heaved a sigh, eyes closed, fitting his head into crook of Xander's neck._

_"Couple days ago, I found out. So I - went down there later, after he'd gone. Found out how long he'd been doing that. They'd been - giving him a different one every time. Getting him addicted to it but not letting him - form any links. You know how bad he's been looking." Xander nodded, looking over at Oz. Riley **had** looked bad, lately - a greyish pallor, darkly-ringed eyes - his hands always shaking and his gaze never quite meeting anyone else's. He said it was just nerves - pressure from school. _

_Xander thought about what Spike had just said. "Wait - explain that to me. What do you mean - a different one every time?"_

_"Different vamp every time. You know how we - made the link? Shared blood?" Spike rubbed his cheek just little on Xander's shoulder. "They didn't let him take blood from the same vamp twice. That makes him want it, but he never gets what his body's craving. Just more **want** , never satisfaction. Worse than skag, that. He'd be desperate enough to be to be turned - or just drained dry. They knew who he was." Spike leaned into Xander a little more, and Xander hugged his arms around the vampire - fought a rising sense of horror._

_"So he's - addicted. And - dangerous."_

_***Sick hurt mine KILL it*** "Yeah."_

_***Pack pack pack*** from Oz, softly, and his fingers were rubbing gently over Spike's, chaffing them in both of his hands as if the vampire were suffering from cold._

_"What - what did you do **tonight** , Spike?" Spike sighed, and raised his head - looked at Xander for a long moment, and his eyes were ancient, and implacable, and utterly cold._

_"Took the Slayer to see him there."_

_"Oh **Christ** -" Xander was on his feet before he'd even thought about moving, and Spike just watched him, silent even in the link. "Spike, why - God, **why** did you do that?"_

_"He - could've hurt you, love. Or the wolf. Any of you. He needed to be gone."_

_"But - why take **Buffy** there? You know how - **fuck**." ***Hurt her*** Xander paced to the door and back, scowling._

_***Mine protect mine love you MINE*** overwhelming and fierce and Xander and Oz both flinched a little._

_" **Damnit** , Xander, you think I give a **fuck** if the Slayer gets her little heart all bruised over that bastard?" Spike was up as well - up and so close to Xander that they were almost touching the length of their bodies. The demon glared out at him, and Xander stood still, watching. _

_***Family*** in the link and not a clue where it was coming from._

_"He hurt you - he helped hurt the wolfling, never mind he thought better of it later. He put the Bit and Joyce in danger. And he fucking put his hands on me, Xander - he -" Spike's voice choked into silence and the link - full of anger, of hate and of fear - suddenly shattered into jagged shards of **pain** as Spike flung something at them; something hideous and savage and bloody and Oz was the wolf, furious. _

_Xander reeled back from that freeze-frame of memory, crying out - tried to shut out the rest of the memory that rose, prompted by that image. He felt it - before, after, **during** \- and he knew Oz did too. Felt the backlash as the images - soldiers, doctors, blood, **pain** \- hit the werewolf and Xander tried frantically to shut it down. Then it was gone - done - and Xander stood swaying, his head in his hands. He'd seen those memories before - in nightmares, right after the claim spell. He'd never wanted to see them again. He could hear Oz - a soft whimpering - and Spike panting raggedly somewhere. Xander opened his eyes - took a stumbling step forward and hauled Spike up from where he'd collapsed to his knees._

_***Sorry sorry love you sorry oh gods*** Spike was on his knees again, elbows on the bed and face buried in his hands. The full change had shredded the worn jeans Oz had been wearing and he fumbled at the sheet - pulled it over himself, up to his waist and hunched there, miserable looking._

_***Hurt hurt hurt*** from him, and Spike dragged in a hard, shaky breath._

_"Wolf - Oz - **fuck** , I'm sorry, I - didn't want you to see that, I -" Spike's voice was ragged - teary - and Oz leaned forward and rested his forehead on Spike's temple._

_***Safe.*** _

_***Sorry love you, Xander, love you so sorry*** Xander sagged down on the other side of Spike - reached and began a slow, gentle massage of Spike's neck. They simply rested there for long moments, the link thick with reassurance - with love. Finally Spike shifted - sat slowly back on his heels, taking one of Xander's hands in his, and one of Oz's in the other._

_"All right, wolfling?" he asked softly, and Oz wiped at his eyes - nodded._

_Xander studied their hands, rubbing his thumb over and over Spike's knuckles. ***Spike's hands are so - elegant. Like a painter's hands. And Oz - he's got those calluses from the guitar and those long fingers... My hands look so - common.*** Xander took a deep breath and Spike looked up at him, his eyes bluer for being awash in unshed tears, his mouth in a grim line._

_"I don't - I don’t care about Riley, Spike. He deserves whatever he gets. But - Buffy..."_

_"I know it hurt her, pet. But what was I supposed to do? She wouldn't have just believed me if I'd told her."_

_"Maybe. Maybe not. What - what did she do?"_

_"Started knocking hell outta the vamps there. Chased the customers off. When I left, her and the farmboy were having a knock-down drag-out. The Army wants him back, you know."_

_"They do?" Xander glanced over at Oz, who shrugged._

_"Yeah. He said - they're in town, wanting him back, and tonight's the night. He stays or he goes."_

_"Guess he'll be going, then." Xander muttered._

_Beside him, Oz shifted a little bit - reached with his free hand and touched Spike's arm. "What else, Spike? You said you fixed them all."_

_Spike looked at Oz, head to one side a little, and the link was ***Not pack never touch you***_

_"Yeah. I had - well, there's this bloke I know. Demon. And I had him do me up a little...time-bomb. Been waiting to use it."_

_***Tell*** _

_"Well...he made a fetch. Like a - ghost. Of one of the soldier-boys." ***Dead boy*** and Xander shivered. It was Graham that was dead._

_"It went to where they were waiting for him tonight. It was - there's this spell..."_

_"Just the basics, okay?" Xander whispered, and Spike's hand clenched tight in his._

_"It was infected. This spell - it's like a plague. The fetch went in with them - went through them. They've got it now, and they'll spread it. They'll take it back down to Brazil and it'll go through the bastards like wildfire." Glee and hatred and a vicious triumph surged through the link, the demon reveling in malignant satisfaction._

_Xander closed his eyes for a long moment. He could feel Oz - ***Pack*** and ***Protect*** and ***GOOD*** ; the wolf heedless of anything but the enemy eliminated. The hyena howled in savage joy, and the soldier - was just quiet. Glad to have it done._

_***But me, what does it mean to ME? Killed them all - killed RILEY.*** Xander let what the wolf - the demon - were feeling wash through him. Sampled those emotions - sipped at the brimming cup of bloodlust the hyena was ready to give him at a moment's notice. Waited for revulsion - for hatred - for guilt. Nothing._

_"Xander - love -" ***please, please*** Spike's hands on either side of his face, thumbs slipping over his cheekbones, fingers delicately in his hair._

_***Love you*** from Oz, strong as he could, to **both** of them, and:_

_***Love you both, keep you safe, love you love you*** from Spike, softly._

_"I - I think... It's done now, right? Spike? Done now with them, with - all of that." Xander opened his eyes to Spike looking anxiously up at him, cool hands slipping down to settle lightly on his shoulders._

_"Yeah. Done. Promise." Spike looked over at Oz, put out one hand to brush through darkly amber hair. "Sorry, wolfling. Shouldn't have done that - shouldn't have thrown that at you."_

_Oz pushed into the vampire's touch._

_***Pack*** "It's okay. You - did what you had to. Had it worse than me. I'm not gonna - hold it against you."_

_Spike smiled at the werewolf - real smile, and Oz ducked his head. "Xan, love -"_

_"No, don't. It's like you're - **apologizing** \- for being tortured. You - it's done, and I'm glad, and..." Xander looked at Spike - into eyes full of pain, now - of love and fear. "I **love** you, Spike. ***love you always*** You said you were gonna take them out and you did. You did. I was just... I wish Buffy hadn't gotten hurt. I'm sorry -"_

_"No, love. You're ***laughter hearthfire white knight*** too good for this crap. I did - hurt her. And I liked it. But, it's **done** now, and I won't - won't make it worse. All right, love? I don't want to hurt you - I **try** not to hurt you -"_

_Xander pulled him close - held him as tightly as he could, wishing he had vampire strength to make Spike feel - make him understand - that he'd never let him go, never give up on him. He could only send his love and his **want** and his promises through the link, over and over, sending it to Oz as well, doing his best to pull the raveled edges back together. To purge the fear and the sorrow and make them whole again, family again._

 

Xander sighed - shifted just a little. The ghostly purr from Spike had stopped - Xander's hand had stopped stroking his hair. He resumed that caress, trying to force his mind into more pleasant channels - more _specific_ memories, but his mind kept skittering away from those things - that person. Kept jumping to other days and events, leaving her a blur.

He saw Dawn in his mind again, standing cold and pale and utterly lost, her arm bleeding, her voice deadly calm as she asked them all: _"Is this blood? It can't be me...I'm not a key - not a thing."_ Her impotent rage at all of them - Buffy trying to explain - to soothe - and Dawn running away. Running out into the night and the frantic search for her that ended at the hospital and _Glory_ , Glory there, tossing Buffy and Spike and all of them away from her as if they were made of straw. Only Tara and Willow could do anything, and the teleportation spell had drained Willow badly - hurt her. After that, Dawn had been sullen and weepy by turns, and they'd had several all-night Scooby sessions, trying their best to find something - _anything_ \- that would help them. Glory like a malignant shadow over all, her strength and seeming invulnerability making Buffy anxious and angry.

Even Christmas - Joyce and Buffy making pies, Giles going with Xander and Oz to collect a stately spruce, Dawn and Tara hanging tinsel and giggling as Willow lectured about the blatant hypocrisy of the Religious Right co-opting a Pagan ritual for their own.... Even that had seemed slightly frenetic. A put-on, as if they were scrambling for normalcy in the face of utter chaos. Which, Xander supposed, they were, in a way. But they'd tried. Dawn had nagged at the three of them to get with the season - to decorate and put up a tree. Had nagged incessantly, in fact, until Spike lost his patience and told her no.

 

 

_"Leave off, Bit! I haven't done Christmas since I was human, and I'm bloody well not going to start back now!"_

_"What?" Dawn had gaped at him, sitting on the couch with a manicure set spread out around her, diligently doing her nails and trying to talk Spike into letting her do his. "What do you mean - you went, like, a hundred years without a - a tree or presents or - **anything**?"_

_"Dru didn't like Christmas. It reminded her of the sisters. She was gonna be a nun right before Angel got to her, and Christmas made her…. Well, let's just say it made her re-live some bad memories."_

_Dawn frowned, carefully laying down a perfect stripe of pale pink lacquer on her index finger. "Okay, so - what was Christmas like when you were - were human? What did you do?"_

_"Fuck's sake -"_

_"Oh, c'mon Spike. Tell her." Xander grinned at him from the kitchen where he was making eggnog - **his** only concession to the season. Oz was out. Had, in fact, been spending more nights out than not. Spike and Xander suspected...someone._

_"Christ! Fine. We didn't have a bloody huge tree like you lot have - we had a nice one that sat up on the table in the front parlor. Mother and I made decorations for it - paper chains and little paper figures - all kinds of things. And candles. And - we put garlands up everywhere, and had carolers at the house, and parties.... Someone was always getting married, and there were all kinds of theatricals and things...."_

_Dawn was staring, open-mouthed at Spike, and Xander just stood in the kitchen, his eyes closed, reliving those memories with Spike. Seeing ***Mother Cousin Frieda Uncle Leonard...Father...*** Spike stood up abruptly and went to the open window, lighting a cigarette and staring out into the night._

_"What - what did you do at the parties?" Dawn asked, subdued, and Spike inhaled - exhaled - turned to look at her, his gaze softening a bit._

_"Oh, we - we played Authors and Blind-man's Buff and The Ministers' Cat.... and there were crackers to pull, and the plum pudding, and dancing.... And sometimes there were skating parties, and sleighing - when Father was alive." Spike fell silent again, smoking and looking at nothing, the link thick with nostalgia - with a deep, tearing ache whenever Spike though of his long-dead father._

_***Love you, don't be sad, not alone*** Xander sent softly, and Spike sent him a flashing smile._

_***I know. Love you.*** _

_"But - it sounds like - it was really cool. Why don't you want to do that stuff anymore?" Dawn was carefully capping her nail polish, fingers spread wide so she wouldn't smudge her still-wet nails._

_Spike snorted - pushed away from the wall and stalked back over to the couch, crushing out the cigarette.  
"Not the same, is it? It's all so - plastic now. So loud. Everybody running around, buying stuff, going crazy. And - it's too warm here. Can't have a proper Wassail in all this heat - can't cut your own garlands or you'll get arrested. It's just - not the same." He slumped down in the chair again, looking dissatisfied and a little glum, and Dawn watched him for a minute before wandering into the kitchen._

_"Did I make him mad?" she whispered to Xander, and Xander pulled her into a quick hug, stroking her hair._

_"Nah. He's just - remembering, you know? All his family's gone, it's kinda...sad, sometimes."_

_***Not gone. You're family. The best family. Forever.*** _

_***Yeah. Always, love*** _

_"Oh." Dawn looked down at her nails - looked up at Xander, sudden excitement in her face. "I'm going to tell mom she has to invite him to Christmas dinner! She and Buffy were talking about having Mr. Giles over, but I'm going to tell her we have to have a **real** party - invite everybody! You guys'll come, won't you? Please? We can make Spike tell us how to play those games and - and it'll be great! Please say you'll come, Xander!"_

_Xander looked at her wide, happy eyes - at the pleading expression in them. She wanted to be **normal** , so badly. To forget about being the Key - to forget about Glory. Xander knew that was why she'd badgered her mom into a huge tree - into traditional cookies and tons of decorations. Knew that was why she was doing **this** , as well._

_***Lived on the Hellmouth for four years, knows about demons and vamps and magic and things no little girl should know... But Christmas is still the biggest event of the year.*** _

_***Party with the Slayer*** Xander thought, and grinned at the string of curses that came back. But a minute later Spike was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, smiling at Dawn._

_"You ask your mum, Niblet, and if she says yes, then - we'll come. All right?" Dawn had shouted and hugged them both, and the party **had** gone rather well. Only one minor kitchen disaster (Buffy had dropped a pie), and Dawn had persuaded Spike to tell them how to play The Minister's Cat, and they'd all had fun, clapping in time and trying to come up with descriptive words for the minister's cat that started with 'A', then 'B', then 'C'; halfway through the alphabet before Joyce was declared the winner. Spike had actually spent most of his time in the living room corner, sitting cross-legged on the floor and watching the others, an odd little secret smile on his face when no one was looking._

_That night in bed, he'd hummed **Frosty the Snowman** under his breath while going down on Xander until Xander had gotten a stitch from laughing, and they'd curled happily around each other in the twilight just before dawn, warm and content, at peace._

 

Xander smiled at that memory, but then slowly the smile faded to a frown, and he shook his head, feeling close to tears again. _*Trying to remember...and all I can remember is Spike, and me...everybody but... Why can't I think about...her?*_ He twitched ever so slightly as the front door opened. He could hear Oz coming in - setting something down on the kitchen table, then a long silence.

_*Bath?*_ and Xander sent an okay, watching the bedroom door open and Oz slide in. He looked worn out, and he stood there for a moment just looking at Xander.

"Tried to take a nap, but..." Xander shrugged, and Oz nodded - made a little gesture back towards the kitchen.

"I got those flowers Spike wanted." 

"Thanks, Oz." Oz nodded again - smiled softly and ghosted across the room and into the bathroom, quietly shutting the door. Xander sighed - reached down and began to stroke Spike's shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly.

"Spike. Hey, Spike - wake up, love."

"Mmmm?" Spike twitched - curled instinctively closer - and Xander slid down in the bed a bit, so he was even with the vampire. Spike's head ended up on his arm, and after a moment blue eyes opened sleepily, blinking at him. "We need to get up, love. Get ready."

Spike's hand reached out from under the covers and touched Xander's face - traced his eyebrow and cheek, combed back through his hair. "All right, pet. Want to eat?"

Xander grimaced - shook his head. "I don't - think I could." Spike nodded - stretched upwards a little for a kiss and then pulled Xander close, hugging him. "I don't want to go."

"I know, pet."

"You'll stay right there with me, right?"

"Course I will, pet. Right there."

"I've been trying to remember...but I just keep thinking about other things. I don't want to forget already - what's _wrong_ with me?"

"Give it time, love. You won't forget, promise." Xander kissed him - wished fiercely that they could just stay home - make love and not _think_ \- but there wasn't anymore time. They had to get up, now. Get dressed. Go and meet everyone and spend the next few hours being - strong. Being calm, and quietly willing to do anything, and...brave. Spend the next few hours looking at the shell-shocked faces of Buffy and Dawn, and watching Joyce be laid away into the uneasy rest of a Sunnydale cemetery.

_"When I was small I was in love - in love with everything_   
_now there's only you..."_

 

\--------------------------------------------

Thomas Dolby - _Cloudburst at Shingle Street_


	23. Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we meet Dario, an original character, and someone for Oz to love. From here out, the pairing will be Oz/Dario.

Xander stood in the doorway to the bathroom, watching Spike in the tub. The setting sun was going down in a cloudless sky and the garnet light, filtered through sky-blue blinds, made the steamy air seem dyed a pale amber-violet. Several candles burned on the long shelf Xander had put up behind the tub, gilding every reflective surface and making Spike's skin seem the color of honeyed cream. His dark brows and lashes were almost startling - lupine and feral in contrast to the watered-silk skin.

_*Beautiful vampire mine*_

Spike's eyes opened - in the tinted light, they seemed to glow - and he smiled, small and soft. _*Join me*_

Xander pushed away from the door-jamb and slowly undressed, watching Spike watch him, feeling languorous and half-asleep in the warmth and steam. He slid into the tub opposite Spike, settling his feet on either side of Spike's hips and pulling the vampire's feet into his lap. The old claw-foot tub was huge - big enough for Xander to stretch out comfortably, big enough for the two of them to curl together. The water shimmered with an iridescent sheen, and Xander felt the oil slicking his skin. A Christmas gift from Tara. She'd blended clove, ginger, and eucalyptus oils for Spike, and it seemed to only intensify the already delicious natural scent that Xander loved. The water was steaming hot, and Xander leaned back and sighed deeply, relaxing completely for the first time all day. He held Spike's feet in his hands - began a lazy massage, thumbs rubbing and pressing in circles into the high arches. Spike slipped a little lower into the water, his eyes half-shut, the purr rumbling up softly out of his chest.

"Good day, love?"

"All right day. Just - nervous. Manny let me off early. He - knows about the Council."

"Mmmm? How's that?"

"Demon grapevine, he said." Xander pressed his fingers into the tops of Spike's feet - felt the thin bones there, and the strong tendons.

"That's all right, then," Spike murmured, _*oh nice, love you pet just there*_

In the kitchen, faintly, Xander could hear Oz saying something, and Derio saying something back. Derio was Oz's - well, boyfriend sounded stupid - Oz's new _friend_ ; the guy Oz had been not-at-home with for the past month or more. Xander smiled to himself.

Derio was in a band that seemed to mostly be known via the Internet, and they sold their CD's online, at a website one of the band-members had designed. His 'real world' job. They'd gotten the gig at the Bronze for a place to practice with audience feedback, and work out the kinks in their newest stuff before they made another CD. Spike and Xander had gone down to play pool and listen last Friday. The music was - odd. A collection of 'old-timey' songs from the Appalachian mountains and - according to Spike - the Highlands of Scotland, and a sort of 'island' music that was a mix of salsa and plena. New, different, and received fairly enthusiastically by most of the Bronze crowd.

The last song of the night, Derio quietly announcing into the microphone that it was ' _in honor of new friends_ '. Then they tore into The Clash's ' _London Calling_ ', making Spike grin and let loose a piercing whistle at the end; high praise indeed, for Spike and the Bronze.

Oz had come wandering down from the sound booth after, and brought Derio over. About three inches taller then Oz, lean and brown with long, thin, dark-brown dreadlocks and a lilting accent. He was from Puerto Rico, and he knew what the Hellmouth was, and Xander and Spike had liked him almost immediately. Oz had just sat and smiled, back to his silent self more than ever, a quiet pulse of contentment and affection in the link.

_"How'd you meet?" Glance between them, green eyes and black sharing amusement._

_"I was leaving late, and this girl comes up all - sex-say, and suddenly -" another amused glance at Oz - "Suddenly she's all 'grrrr'." And he puts his fingers to his mouth, mock fangs, like the old madman in that Monty Python movie._

_***Vampire*** _

_"And I'm - terrified, naturally - and I don't have any kind of weapon except for my fiddle and I'm **not** smashing **that** over her head or, you know, whatever... Then all of a sudden there's Oz and he -" snort of laughter, "he has the bigger 'grrrr' and she's dust."_

_Oz grins - shrugs. "I lost it a little."_

_"You were stalking me!"_

_"Just wanted your autograph." And they're leaning together, laughing, and there's ***good*** in the link and ***happy***. Spike and Xander can't help but approve._

 

Now Derio was out in the kitchen, tuning his guitar while Oz made fish tacos, and after a moment he started to play and sing softly. Xander liked his voice - a rather hoarse baritone - and it floated in quietly to them, accompanied by the cascading notes of the guitar. That sort of Spanish-sounding music that Xander had no name for but found he liked very much.

_"So...'Derio'?"_

_"My mother named me Desiderio. 'Spike'?"_

_"Absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with my mother."_

"Ready to take on the Council, then?" Spike asked him, and Xander moved his hands up a little, to circle the slender ankles and dig in with his knuckles, Spike's feet pushing into his chest.

"Ready as I'll ever be. I wish they weren't coming _here_ -" Xander was working slowly up Spike's calves, and Spike's purr echoed in the bath, rumbling undertone to the music - to Derio's lulling voice.

_"We live in the hills and travel at night_  
_Invisible lives in the visible light…_  
_You might hear a sound with the fall of the sun_  
_It's the beat of heart, the pound of a drum…_  
_We are here, we are No Man_  
_Disappeared, we are No Man..."_

"Well, they won't stay long. We'll tell them what they want to hear, get them back where they belong. Don't need those wankers here, mucking about, poking into things. _Dawn_ , Spike meant, and Xander nodded. They'd made a pact, all the Scoobies. Dawn was out of this - out of _all_ of this. They knew nothing about a key, they knew nothing about what Glory wanted. They would not, ever, bring her to the attention of the Council.

 _She's ours_ , Spike had said, scowling. _They don't touch her_.

Buffy - who had become thinner, whose eyes had taken on a haunted look - had sat at the table at the Magic Box and cried for a moment, after their pact. Thin wrists gripped in white-knuckled hands, head bowed. Then she'd looked up at them and whispered _thank you_ , and they had all seen the easing, just a little, of the terrible burden she had carried since Joyce had died.

_"Turned away, in our own lands_  
_We are here, we'll never go away…_  
_Some men are kings, and some work the mines_  
_A few have it all, getting' more all the time_  
_They come with a gift, and then with a gun_  
_You learn how to serve or you learn how to run..."_

Spike gently pulled his feet away - tucked his legs under himself and then was gliding through the water, coming to rest on Xander's chest. His hip fitted into the curve of Xander's hip - his thigh between Xander's thighs.

_*Love you safe here family*_

_*Safe here always*_ Xander pulled him close - arms around his ribs, cheek against wet hair, and they lay together; rumbling purr, slow heartbeat, Xander's fingers doing a slow glide up Spike's back, Spike's hand moving in small circles over Xander's ribs.

_"We are the shadows that won't go away_  
_Ghosts of the past the future someday..."_

 

Derio had gone, right after dinner, giving Oz a slow kiss and a smoldering look that promised...all sorts of things.

 _*Want*_ in the link, and Spike smirking around his cigarette.

_*Good?*_

"The best," Oz said, and went to tidy away some things, so his 'personal stuff' wasn't on view for the Council toadies.

"We gotta get a bigger house," Xander muttered to himself, shoving an untidy stack of CD's up against the bookshelf. "Manny's got a couple houses, 'bout a mile from here. We should go look at them."

"By the sea?" Spike asked, leaning in the kitchen doorway, and Xander pulled a crumpled pack of smokes out of the couch - tossed them to the vampire.

"Yeah - just north of here a ways. Two storeys instead of one. Not a lot bigger as far as the rooms, but more of 'em."

"That'd be nice," Oz murmured, and then turned and pelted Spike with a handful of laundry as Spike sent a rather vivid image of Oz and Derio doing -

"Spike! Are you thinking about other men?"

"Just the one other," Spike leered at Xander, balling up Oz's jeans and t-shirts and hurling them through the bedroom door.

_*Bad vampire.*_

_*Always.*_ A car was coming down the street, and Xander looked out the screen-door, frowning.

"I think that's them."

 _*Protect pack **outsiders** *_ from Spike, and Xander walked over to him, resting his hand gently on the small of Spike's back - scratching lightly.

"Let's be calm, yeah?" he said softly, and Spike snorted. It was kind of strange, the antagonism Spike felt towards the Council. He had taken Xander's worry over Dawn - over Giles and Buffy - to heart, and for the moment at least, the entire Scooby gang was his pack. And he was pissed.

Oz kicked his duffle into the far corner and settled onto the couch, eyes darkening momentarily. "Hope they don't get stupid," Oz muttered.

_*Calm, safe, pack is safe...love you*_

"We'll be all right, pet," Spike said, answering Xander's thoughts, serious now. The car stopped behind Oz's van and four people got out. Three men in dark suits and shiny shoes, one woman, also suited, her hair in a severe bun and clutching a clipboard. They looked curiously around them at the neighborhood; a few people on their porches, mostly TV's on behind the curtains. They walked up to the front door and peered inside.

Xander knew the two lamps in the living room didn't provide much illumination - they were good mostly for reading - and he also knew that when the three of them looked out at the group, their eyes sparked eldritch fire in the low light. There were gasps and a moment of whispered conversation, and then one of the men - dark-haired and frowning - knocked on the screen door.

"Alexander Harris?" he asked, squinting in at them, and Xander went reluctantly to unhook the door. He rather pointedly didn't ask them in, and they sidled inside, looking disapprovingly at the candles lit in the kitchen; the incense smoking before the small stone Buddha and other items Oz had gathered on one shelf. Two of the men brandished loaded crossbows, concentrating nervously on Spike. The other had a cross, and the woman fiddled with the clipboard, sending odd looks toward the vampire.

_*What the fuck?*_

_*No idea, pet. Fucking **weapons**!*_

"You're - Alexander?" the woman asked, looking at her papers.

"Harris, yeah." Xander said, standing with arms crossed in the middle of the living room.

"And - this is...Daniel Osbourne?" A short nod from Oz. "And...a-and William the Bloody." The woman sounded a little breathless and suddenly the link was flooded with _*laughter*_ and Spike tipped his head to one side, looking at the Watcher through a thin ribbon of smoke.

"Heard of me then, have you?" The woman gulped - smiled.

"I - I did my thesis on you Wi - uh, Mister..."

"Spike'll do, pet. Your thesis. Isn't that _neat_." _*Got a fan.*_ Spike took a long pull on his cigarette - _stalked_ forward, doing that head down, pantherish glide that made Xander's stomach tighten in arousal and want. He bent down a little and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the end table - leaned on the back of the couch. Xander knew - flash through the link - that the tips of Spike's fingers had brushed across Oz's neck.

 _*Pack pack pack*_ from Oz, the wolf unsettled and as pissed as Spike's demon.

 _*Outsiders*_ from the hyena, and Xander moved around the coffee table - settled on the couch next to Oz. 

_* **Mine** protect mine*_ from Spike, fierce and furious.

"I can't - can't believe that you, S-spike, are actually helping the Slayer. I had rather thought you'd be trying to kill her."

Spike shrugged, watching the woman. Xander - the hyena - could smell their nerves and fear - could smell something suspiciously like arousal coming off the woman.

"Not your business, really, what I'm doing." Spike pulled another cigarette out of the pack in his pocket - lit it and blew smoke at the huddled group of Watchers.

"I don't like you coming into my house with weapons," Xander said, and the woman's eyes darted over to him. "So hurry up and ask your questions - I'm not gonna wait around all night."

"You won't be doing your friend any favors, with an attitude like that," one of the men snapped, and Spike snorted.

But it was Oz that answered, his eyes gone black. "I can't imagine _any_ attitude that would help Buffy, when it comes to you and your questions," he said softly, and the woman looked over her clipboard.

"That's the werewolf," she whispered, and _* **kill it** *_ from the hyena.

 _* **Mine** *_ from Spike, who snarled at the group. They flinched, and one of the crossbows creaked as the man holding it tightened his grip convulsively.

"You'd better watch yourself," Xander snapped. "Ask your questions."

"So - a werewolf, the Slayer of Slayers, and a...carpenter. Just how do you help the Slayer, Mr. Harris?" The dark-haired man's lip curled in a sneer as he looked at Xander - looked and dismissed. A growl was ratcheting up in Spike's chest and Xander grinned coldly at the man and let the hyena out a bit more, knowing his eyes flared green in the dimness.

 _*Calm love calm, calm*_ "I whittle a mean stake," he said softly, and the man stared at him, unable to look away from Xander's flat, inhuman gaze.

"Exactly what - do you _do_ , to help the Slayer?" The woman Watcher, nervous behind her clipboard and sensible glasses.

"Whatever needs doing. It's the bloody Hellmouth - every soddin' demon with half a plan and half a brain thinks they can come in here and open it up. There's practically a queue, some nights. We just keep the riff-raff to a minimum." _*Bloody stupid bastards*_

The imagery Spike sent with that was...vivid, and Xander clamped down hard on a surge of bloodlust from the hyena. Oz was rigid beside him, his eyes black and the link thrumming with anger. It was getting a bit -

 _*Not calm, oh fuck. **Calm** , Spike, stop that, safe, we're safe, Oz, calm*_ Xander took a deep breath - looked blandly up at the Council members. "Listen - I don't know what you think you're going to find out here. A lot of demons are attracted to the Hellmouth and we help Buffy take care of it. That's all. Oz and I grew up here - we lost friends here. We'll do whatever it takes to make it safe. And Spike...has his own reasons for being here. He doesn't want the Hellmouth open any more than we do."

"I find that hard to believe." _That_ watcher again - the dark-haired man with the sneer in his voice - and Spike grinned at him, his eyes golden and narrow.

"Gotta keep the humans fat an' happy, don't I? Demon blood...isn't to my liking." Spike ground out his second cigarette, eyeing the Watchers thoughtfully.

The man stared for a moment - blanched absolutely white. "We were led to believe that...the Initiative had...leashed you."

_*Oh shit.*_

Spike was on the man before Xander could get to his feet - hand knocking aside the crossbow and grabbing the man around the neck. His right hand darted out and snatched the second crossbow out of the other Watcher's hand. He flung it away from him, and it crashed to the floor and slid, into the kitchen. The second watcher leaped back, gasping. The one wielding the cross was frozen, mouth working in a soundless ' _oh_ ', and the woman looked as if she might be ill. Spike shook the Watcher in his grip, lifting him off his feet, and the man writhed, gagging.

"Guess you were led wrong, you fuck." Spike hissed, fangs bared.

 _*Spike - don't, calm, **calm** love, can't kill him*_ Oz was grinning, showing the wolf's long teeth and curling tongue, and the hyena yipped in excitement, wanting blood.

"You'd better go now. I don't think we want to answer any more questions," Xander said softly. _*Please love put him down*_

Spike growled into the man's face - gave him a final shake and dropped him. The man whooped in a rasping breath - coughed painfully, rubbing his throat. There were livid marks coming up already, and the woman clucked sympathetically over them, wide-eyed.

"Right. Get the fuck out of Xander's house, _now_ , and I'll try to remember not to pull your spines out through your fuckin' stomachs next time I see you." Spike's fierce gaze raked over them all and he retreated slowly, kicking the other crossbow after the first and coming to rest at the back of the couch again. This time he made no bones about reaching out and running his fingers through Xander's hair - letting his other hand rest on Oz's shoulder. The Watchers stared and shuffled, murmuring.

"We really do need to ask -" the woman started, and Xander interrupted her, scowling.

"You don't need to ask anything. We told you what we do - we help. There isn't any more to it. I don't know what the hell you people think you're doing - this Glory is a major bad-ass and you're playing Twenty Questions! Just tell Buffy what she needs to know so we can kill her! It's like you _want_ her to fail! She's all that stands between you and the damn Hellmouth and you're playing _games_!" 

Xander ground his teeth in frustration, wishing he hadn't yelled, but these people were so damn _stupid_ and so damn arrogant and self-righteous he wanted to crack their heads together. Spike was growling, the demon still foremost, and Oz had gone a bit wolfier - claws extending blackly from his fingertips. He was growling, too, and the link was _*rage*_ and _*mine*_ and _*pack*_ , awash with bloodlust and the instinct to drive the invaders away - or kill them.

The Watchers huddle had tightened a bit, and they were staring at Spike - at Oz - at _him_ , and he knew his eyes were the hyena's still. He wondered if anything _else_ changed, when he was that pissed.

"If the Slayer isn't up to task of -"

" _Damnit!_ She _died_ once, defending this place! She's survived because she's not afraid to ask for help - because _Giles_ is smart enough to know when one person alone is just suicide! It's his _job_ to keep her alive, and it's _her_ job to kick ass, and I don't know what you think has suddenly changed, but if you people don't stop screwing around you're gonna get us all _killed_! Just get out of here - go back to Travers and tell him whatever the hell you want but _tell_ Giles and Buffy what they need to know!"

"That's up to Mr. Travers." The woman looked at Xander for a long moment - gave a small nod and capped her pen. "Nigel - I think it best that we go." The man Spike had half-strangled gave his throat a last rub and straightened his tie.

"Lydia -"

"My discretion, Nigel, and I don't think we have any more questions that will get us useful answers." Lydia tucked her clipboard under her arm - gave Spike one last, lingering look. "Spike - may I - may I ask just one question? May I ask - your Sire -" A surge of rage through the link, and Xander stood up fast, as did Oz.

_*Calm calm, almost done, **calm**.*_

"No more questions. Get out." Lydia bit her lip, her eyes pleading with Xander - then she sagged, defeated, and the Watchers shuffled out. Xander crossed the living room and latched the screen-door; closed and locked the inner door and then turned around and leaned there, shutting his eyes for just a moment. Feeling Spike as the vampire crossed the room to him.

"Bloody fools," Spike grumbled, human again, slipping his arms around Xander and tugging him into a hard embrace. After a moment they went back over to the couch and Xander flopped down next to Oz - huffed out a breath as Spike sprawled across his lap; head on Oz's thigh and grabbing Xander's hand, lacing their fingers together and resting them on his chest.

"That could have gone better," Xander said, and Oz leaned into his shoulder, human now as well.

"No it couldn't. They aren't here to help, they're here to judge," Oz murmured, _*pack*_ and _*protect*_ , and Xander sighed.

"Yeah, I guess so. I just don't wanna - screw Buffy up."

"They can't just - get rid of her. And even if they decide to bring some other Slayer in here, it's not like the Watcher or Red - any of you - would switch sides." Spike's eyes were still demon-gold, and the _*rage*_ was still in the link, but _*pack*_ was there, too, encompassing Dawn and Tara, Willow and Giles...including _Buffy_ , and for the second time since the Watchers had arrived, Xander contemplated this new development with awe

"Spike - why...why this, now?" Mirroring the vampire's emotions back to him through the link - to Oz as well, including him in the question.

Spike looked - troubled. He rubbed his head a little on Oz's thigh - squeezed Xander's fingers a little tighter. "They're your family, pet. They're _yours_. Even if Red scares you a bit and the Slayer pisses you off - you love 'em, and you...want to protect them. I can't..." Spike was silent for a moment, thinking, then he sighed. "I hated Darla. Miserable bitch. But I couldn't… _hurt_ her. Couldn't have left her to be hurt. It's just... It's family, it's - " _*Pack nest always blood and need and yoursmineyours the same the same.*_

Xander and Oz contemplated that, silent, while the gold slowly faded from Spike's eyes and the link subsided to a low hum of contentment. "But Angel's out of that, now." Xander said softly. Spike bared his teeth, silent snarl, and the demon gleefully sent out an image of a hot poker connecting with Angel's ribs.

"Oh, back in the day I felt the same, but he cut himself out. And that soul of his - won't let him back in." _*Not family*_

"Okay. I get that. I'm...thanks."

"Doesn't mean I won't knock the Slayer on her ass if she gets uppity," Spike said, but Xander just smiled, because it was hard to take that threat to heart when the vampire making it was snuggling into his lap, a rusty purr underscoring every word.

 

Two nerve-wracking days later, and most of them were at the Magic Box, waiting for the Council members to arrive - waiting for Buffy. Dawn was safely tucked away with Clem down in Spike's old crypt, enjoying what Clem had called 'Movie and Chip Taste-Test Night'. Clem looked as floppy and harmless as a basset-hound, but Spike had taken him and Buffy aside and told Clem to take a few swings at the Slayer. And Buffy had been surprised and impressed by the strength under the harmless-looking exterior.

Now they waited for the 'final review' or whatever it was, and Spike thought that one more session with the dried-up Watchers would send him screaming into the night - or into _them_. A little bloody mayhem would settle him nicely. Or... Spike dropped his cigarette in a half-empty cup of cold tea and sidled over to where Xander was leaning on the table, talking softly to Willow and Tara. Blue jeans and an old green thermal shirt that fight snugly across his broad, muscled back, and Spike couldn't resist. He got up close behind Xander - slid his fingers around Xander's waist and up under the shirt. Xander shivered in surprise and glanced back at him, laughter in his eyes.

_*Love you better stop that.*_

_*Wanna fight - wanna fuck. Got time...*_ Brief flash of the workout room - Xander up against the wall and jeans open - and Xander stood up fast. Spike grinned and took advantage, slipping his hands further up under the shirt to Xander's chest - pulling him back so that they were pressed together.

_*Want you*_

_*Oh...fuck...Spike!*_ Xander jumped at the delicate prickle of fangs over the claim mark, and Spike almost moaned aloud at the rush of arousal and _want_ \- the heady scent of clean sweat and clean wood and _*sweet, hot...mmmmm*_. 

Willow was staring, open-mouthed, and Spike grinned at her - winked. She started - flushed bright red and turned away, bending busily over a pile of ratty parchment. Beside her, Tara was equally flushed, but she had a small smile on her face and mischief in her eyes. Spike saw her hand slip under the table, towards Willow, and almost laughed when Willow jumped again and stared at the blonde witch. Spike rubbed his fingertips gently across one of Xander's nipples - let his other hand slide lower, dipping just below the waist of his jeans. Xander made a tiny whimpering sound, his head falling back onto Spike's shoulder. Spike pressed his lips to the hinge of Xander's jaw - nibbled there.

 _*Smell so good, so hot, **want** -*_ The witches were giggling together, oblivious.

"Spike! Xander! I really don't think that we need this sort of - _display_ \- when the Council arrive." The Watcher was striding out of the back room, frowning, hand going automatically to his glasses, and Xander twitched in Spike's arms - pulled feebly at the hem of his shirt, which had ridden half up his rib-cage. Anya trailed unhappily behind the Watcher. The Council made her nervous.

"Spike, c'mon, we gotta -" _*Love you want you not **now** *_ and a brief image of the Watchers, gaping and scribbling notes. Spike took a last, lingering taste of the skin on Xander's neck - slid his hands free and turned the human around.

"Sure? We could slip downstairs..." Spike nuzzled his cheek into Xander's - caught the open mouth with his own and spent a leisurely minute or so just kissing his boy. Xander's hands clutched at his t-shirt and Spike pulled their hips together, slow pressure and grind, ignoring the Watcher, ignoring the Witches, catching a very soft _*beautiful*_ from Oz, who was sitting up in the loft, feet dangling. 

Taste of sweet tea, of chocolate, of _blood_ , when Spike let the demon emerge for a moment. Then the bell over the door jangled, and the Watchers were crowding in, and Spike pulled slowly away, eyes on Xander. His boy was a little dazed - a lot aroused - and the dark eyes stared into his, promising….

_*Bad vampire. Gonna get you.*_

_*Promise?*_

_*Oh yeah.*_

"Rupert! You intimated that - that this _vampire_ had allied himself with your group, but you never said - " The head Watcher - Travers - spluttered in offended outrage and Spike smirked at him and caught Xander's hand - hauled him up the wrought-iron stairs to sit by Oz. Oz grinned and passed a crossbow over to Spike - another to Xander and resettled his on his hip.

Two of them were the crossbows the Watchers had left behind at Xander's house. They'd decided to take no chances with this crowd, especially after their own pet Watcher had suggested that one of them might be a magic-user of some sort. Down at the table, Willow and Tara casually linked hands - put certain books and papers at the ready. They were armed, as well. Anya leaned beside the display of swords behind the counter, glaring at the cross-wielding Watcher who tried to join her.

"Employees only, buddy," she snapped. Giles watched the Council members spread out over the shop - frowned when Travers looked at a book and shook his head.

"There have been a number of developments just recently, Quentin, that I did not think -"

"Rupert -" Travers held up his hand, looking disappointed and a little indulgent. "I understand that the Hellmouth is a - different - sort of place, and that your Slayer is not as disciplined or as - _steady_ \- as we could hope, but really. Something like _this_?" Travers gestured upwards towards them and Spike felt the snarl lift his lip - growled very low. Xander was looking narrow-eyed at the man as he continued his infuriating speech, fingers tight on the stock of his crossbow.

_*Bastard*_

_*Kill him?*_ Xander snorted and he finally looked away - pushed his thigh up tight against Spike's, heat soaking into Spike's leg through two layers of denim.

"Maybe my finger can just slip a little." Xander whispered.

"Look funny if we all three slipped," Oz whispered from Spike's other side, and Spike had to chuckle softly.

 _* **Good** boys, mine, get 'em*_ Spike urged, knowing it wouldn't happen but wishing, nonetheless. Xander sighed and leaned into him a little more, propping his crossbow against his shoulder. Travers had settled like a toad into a chair across from the witches, and Giles stood by the display counter, nervously polishing his glasses. The other Watchers were standing about in various poses of supercilious detachment. Lydia was once again engrossed in her clipboard, but she continuously cast sly glances towards Spike. He caught her eye once and winked, demon-gold and grinning, and she gasped and hastily turned her back. Spike laughed in the link, and Xander poked him.

_*Don't scare 'em.*_

_*Wankers.*_

"Your Slayer is twenty minutes late, Rupert. Is this review actually important to her, or is she indulging in some sort of -" Travers was interrupted by the jangle of the door bell and everyone looked up to see Buffy, sword in hand, walk slowly into the shop.

"Buffy! Was there trouble?" Giles hurried forward and Buffy gave him a calm, almost dazed look.

"Oh, yeah. Trouble. A knight, if you can believe it. Armor and everything." Buffy looked down at the sword in her hand - hefted it - turning it so the light ran down its polished length. Spike scented no blood on her or the sword - just sweat and fatigue and fading fear - growing anger.

"Well, since you seem unhurt, we may begin the review -" Travers jumped as Buffy brought the sword down hard on the table. The other Watchers stiffened in surprise. 

Spike grinned. _*Slayer's pissed.*_

"No. No review. No questions I can't answer and no hoops I can't jump through. And _no_ interruptions." Buffy added, glaring at the Watcher Spike had half-strangled. He subsided unhappily, closing his mouth. Buffy paced away from the table. "Did you know, Glory came to my house today?" 

An electric current seemed to run through the Scoobies at that - Spike growled again, remembering the blonde cow who had smelled _wrong_ and felt wrong and had tossed him aside with a strength he'd never encountered.

"Buffy! What -"

"It's all right, Giles. She just wanted to talk. Kinda like the Council, here. Wanted to tell me that I was a - bug. Insignificant. Kinda like that Knight, too - Knight of Byzantium. He wanted to tell me I was powerless against his Order. Everybody telling me I'm _nothing_ , and yet, here you all are. Waiting on _me_. That's when I figured it out." Buffy pulled the knitted cap off her head - tossed it down and ran her fingers back through her hair. "It's about power. I've got it." Buffy paused, then strode up to the table - leaned into Travers space, making him flinch back. "And you don't."

"This is _beyond_ insolent -" In one movement, Buffy snatched up the Knight's sword, turned, and _threw_. The sword slammed into the wall by Nigel's head, point first, _spronging_ faintly. Nigel looked as if he'd swallowed his tongue.

"I'm certain I said 'no interruptions'."

"Oh, well done, Slayer." Spike couldn't keep himself from that, and Buffy sent him a flashing, triumphant glance, then her attention was back on the Watchers.

Xander reached over and squeezed his knee. _*Damn. Pissed Slayer is right. She's scary when she's mad.*_

Spike leaned into Xander's shoulder, wishing he could just lay him back and kiss him - finish what he's started. He let that _want_ into the link, and Xander made a throaty little sound, almost a purr. Spike focused on the Watchers again, letting his fingers burrow under the hem of Xander's shirt, stroking his spine. The Slayer talked on - pointing out the inherent worthlessness of Slayer-less Watchers, and then suddenly she was setting out her demands: all their information on Glory, Giles to get his salary back retroactive, and Spike grinned at Giles' little coughing hint. And her friends to help, no questions asked. Nigel stared around the room, obviously bewildered.

"Not - to get any more weapons thrown at me, but... Aside from Spike - why would you want to drag civilians - _children_ \- into this?"

Buffy stopped pacing and looked at the man - slowly scanned the room. "They're not children. They haven't been children for a long time. I've got two powerful witches, a thousand year old Vengeance demon and a werewolf backing me up."

"And Mr. Harris? No special abilities there." Buffy laughed and Spike glared at Lydia.

_*Bitch*_

"Mr. Harris? He's a better soldier - patroller - _killer_ \- than any one of you. He's been in the field and fighting alongside me for four years. He brought me back to life once. He's just chock _full_ of special abilities, the least being he brought William the Bloody into our group." Buffy shot a hard look at Spike, as if daring him to contradict her, and Spike touched two fingers to his brow, tiny salute.

_*Guess the Slayer wants my help.*_

_*Course she does. Wanna?*_

_*For you...anything.*_

"I need an answer from you right now, Quentin. Yes or no?" Buffy leaned on the table, her eyes fierce and unwavering, staring at the older man. Who looked around the room and sighed, and sagged in his chair.

"We have an agreement, Ms. Summers. Everything - whatever you want."

"Yes!" Willow pumped a fist in the air - grinned at Buffy and hugged Tara closer to her. 

Anya clapped her hands, grinning. "Ex-demon, by the way people. Ex. One hundred percent human, here. No more excruciating vengeance visited upon totally deserving men." The cross-wielding Watcher edged away from her, looking pale. 

Beside Spike, Oz was smiling happily, setting the crossbow down so he, too, could clap. Xander whooped, and Spike slid his hand around, sliding it up Xander's ribs.

"Good on you, Slayer," Spike said, loud enough for Slayer ears to hear, and she grinned, looking at Giles who was solicitously offering Travers a drink.

"Hang on, Giles - we can do that in a minute. First I wanna know...what we're up against. What kind of demon Glory is, and how we're going to take her down." The sounds of celebration faded and everyone turned expectant eyes on Travers. He shifted uneasily in his chair - looked at Giles and then Buffy.

"She's not a demon, Ms. Summers. Glory is - a god."

"Oh," Buffy whispered. Spike looked down at the Watcher, who was silent and frozen. At the Slayer, who had blanched and sat heavily down; at the rest of the Council members, who looked as if they'd rather be anywhere else. Anya was open-mouthed in shock, and the witches were staring at each other, wide-eyed.

 _*Fear*_ and _*Fuck*_ in the link, which just about summed it up.

"I think I'll join our Mr. Travers in that drink," Spike muttered.

 

Hours past midnight, and Oz off with Derio somewhere. The sea booming like a heartbeat, wind driving the tree-limbs against the house. Storm coming, and Spike could smell ozone and rain, a day off at least. But closer, and more immediate, he could smell the balsam-scented candles, and cinnamon oil, and _*blood oh - his blood is like cream...Xander...love...pleeease*_ Spike's hands flexed on the headboard, making it creak.

"Don't let go, Spike, don't let go," Xander's voice murmured from behind him, soft and steady. And then ice - a pinprick, and then a pulling, aching line of it, and Spike arched, gasping. Xander leaned into him, his cock just pushing into _that_ place, deep as he could get and Spike's straight-razor in his hand, cutting shallow and sharp. Pain that flared to pleasure as Xander's hot mouth followed the blade, licking the blood, teasing the sensitive edges of the cut, and Spike arched again, head down and his legs spread wide, trembling.

"Love please -" His voice was ragged - half gone - and Xander shifted, thrusting once and then twice and then stopping again, his fingers hot and hard around Spike's cock, keeping him from orgasm.

"You were sooo bad, love. Gotta take just a little more..." _*Beautiful fuck want you forever taste so good*_ Xander leaned up, covering Spike with his body, his heat and sweat a stinging wash of ecstasy, his cock like a brand inside, every movement flaring fire as the oil warmed and burned. Hours of this and Spike was shuddering, growling; he could barely think, could barely see, only knew Xander over him and inside him, the ice and fire, pricking sting and steady burn, the rush of pins and needles every time Xander moved in him, pushing at him. Waves of sensation and scent that were so strong - so heady and so delicious. He wanted to thrust back and force Xander to pound into him - he wanted to sink his fangs into the sweet-salt flesh and drink his boy down - he wanted to _come_ , oh fuck yeah, and it was gonna hurt and it was gonna feel so _good_....

"There - there...mmmmmm." Xander's forearm against his mouth, ladder of slashes up his arm and Spike lapped like a cat, groaning in need and delight. Another cut, spine to lats, another slow lap of tongue - and Spike heard the straight-razor hit the floor - felt Xander's hands on his hips, slippery with blood, hard and tight.

"You ready now? Gonna fuck you..." Xander drew back and _slammed_ in, and Spike _screamed_ , something guttural and hoarse.

 _*Yes please please now love in me, **make** me, love love you oh fuckfuckfuck!*_ Spike couldn't have spoken if he'd tried. His body moved on instinct alone as he writhed and thrust back, wanting more and _deeper_ and crying out when Xander's nails raked his raw back. The pain was white-hot, dizzying, utter rapture and the demon was howling its pleasure even as Spike's throat caught and worked and sent blood-taste to his mouth. Xander's hand on his cock now, pumping ruthlessly, the oil stinging and lashing him on. Xander's other hand in his hair - pulling his head up and back, twisting and then Xander's throat was against his mouth - awkward as fuck but Spike didn't care - couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to. And Xander whimpering, gasping, and:

 _*Take it take me Spike fuck love you **now** love now*_ Spike _bit_ , savage - feeling the pain flare in the link; flare white and then fade to red, seething delight as Spike drank the honey-salt of Xander's blood. His body locked into an arched, shuddering bow and finally, finally, _coming_ , and _gods_ it was like nothing he'd felt before, nothing. Distantly, he heard the headboard crack in his fingers and heard Xander cry out - felt the wash of heat in him as Xander came.

Abruptly, his legs gave out, and he lay gasping on the bloody sheets, Xander heavy and hot and wonderful on him - in him still. Spike lay and panted, his body throbbing with aftershocks like pulses of heat and cold, over and over. Xander gasped into his hair, and his hands wormed underneath, holding Spike, turning them both onto their sides.

_*My boy lovely boy fuck that was...*_

"That was fucking incredible," Xander whispered, and Spike used every last bit of strength he had to turn over, moaning softly at the sudden emptiness when Xander slipped out. Xander lay with his eyes closed, still panting - his mouth and chest and thighs streaked with blood, drying in rusty smears on the sun-gold skin. The bite Spike had made was ragged - sore looking - and Spike leaned in and kissed it, lapping delicately at the blood that still welled there. Xander shivered and moaned.

"Oh God, _fuck_ , Spike..."

"That was amazing, pet, that was...where'd you learn that, eh?" Spike's voice like sand in his throat and Xander cracked one eye open - grinned tiredly.

"From you, of course. Variation on a theme." His eye fell shut, and Spike nuzzled back in - sighed happily into the heat and damp and scent - pulled Xander closer yet, holding him tight.

_*Mine always never let you go love you love you.*_

_*Mmmmmm...always...my vampire **my** Spike...love you.*_

Outside, the wind dropped and then picked up again, lonely keening across the bluff, and Spike let the purr rumble to life in his chest - let it take them both down into dreamless sleep.

 

____________________

The Brandos - _We Are No Man_


	24. Visit

Three days of stormy weather - low, scudding clouds, wind, drizzle on and off. _Not_ like SoCal at all, but still, Xander didn't think that was the reason Spike was so...restless. The vampire paced around the house - snapped at everyone when they had a Scooby meeting (pointless and fairly depressing, but Buffy insisted) - and generally made a pest of himself. Even the link - that was still changing, evolving, growing stronger all the time - was unsettled; streaming emotion and images that made no sense until Oz was shoving Spike into the wall and snarling at him.

"What _is_ it," he snapped, and Spike scrubbed fretfully at his head, rumpling up his hair and thudding his head back into the wall once, demon-eyed.

"I don't _know_ , I don't - there's something..." _*coming waiting wanting*_ Spike slid down the wall, crouching there with his hands still in his hair, eyes squeezed shut. Xander dried his hands off from washing the dishes and came over - went down on one knee, rubbing a slow hand up and down Spike's arm. Oz crouched there too, eyes black, _*Pack*_ and _*love you*_ in the link. Comforting Spike, and trying to calm his own jangled nerves.

"Don't block us out, love. Maybe we can help," Xander said softly, and Spike nodded and reached out blindly - took Oz's wrist in his hand. It was like the completion of a circuit and whatever was bothering him jumped through Xander - through Oz - and they both flinched away. A sort of - gnawing. A _seething_. As if something was hovering, just out of sight. Something that jangled along their nerves and set Xander's teeth on edge. Like being too close to a transformer, or touching a live wire. Fight or flight so strong the hyena howled. Abruptly, the link shut down, and Xander and Oz both shivered, glancing at each other.

"What the _hell_ -. I've never felt anything like that." Xander rubbed his temples, trying to get the lingering buzzing to go.

Oz was rubbing his hands up and down his arms, watching Spike. "Voices. What were they saying?"

"What?" Spike finally opened his eyes and Oz shook his head, as if throwing off water.

"I could hear - voices - like...singing, or...moaning." His eyes were troubled, still the wolf's.

Xander looked at Spike - shook his head. "I just felt - like something was going to… _jump_ on me, or...come up out of the ground. This kind of - _wanting_." Xander shivered again, and Spike looked between the two of them, his eyes gold.

"I'm - getting both. Why don't you two get both? _Fuck_ , what _is_ it? It's driving me 'round the twist." He slumped to the floor, looking angry and helpless at the same time. Xander leaned over and kissed his cheek - rested forehead to forehead for a moment, then got up and went to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out Spike's whiskey. He came back over and sat down, and Oz grinned and settled cross-legged with him.

"Here - maybe you can drown it out for a while," Xander said, and Spike sighed - raised a smile.

"Cheers, love. Maybe I can."

 

_The man on the screen slashes with a knife, wildly, and the second man recoils - holds up a cut and bleeding hand._

_"Remember this? You smell it. Scent always jogs the memory, don't you think? You remember the energy? The potency of someone else coursing through your veins...someone brave." The first man is mesmerized - staring at the blood - breathing in one shaky breath after another. The second man is - calm. Intent. Tempting._

_"You know the disappointment as it dissipates...the strength slipping from your grasp, the growing, killing need to replenish..." The bloody hand is so close, and the first man is leaning into it - in another moment he'll taste the blood…._

"Ah, kiss him for fuck's sake and get on with it," Spike muttered, and Xander giggled helplessly into Spike's thigh.

"Only you, vampire-mine, would see the romantic side of cannibals."

"Look at 'em! They both want to - just a matter of lettin' go -" Spike took a long swallow of whiskey and petted Xander's hair, and Xander sighed happily. Whiskey, gore, and Jaffa Cakes had mellowed the vampire a bit, and the three of them were sprawled comfortably on the sofa-bed. The bad feeling, whatever it was, seemed to have eased off, or been tuned out, and Spike was finally relaxed for the first time in days. The stormy weather still held; the stars were hidden behind low, heavy clouds, and a constant, rain-scented wind gusted in from the sea, pushing the curtains out and fluttering the candle-flames in the kitchen.

 _*This is good*_ Xander thought. On the screen the 'villain' of the piece had just played a strange, seductive little scene - licking the blood of his 'prisoner' off his own fingers in such a way that Xander was starting to agree with Spike's assessment that the two men should just kiss and 'get on with it'. Xander opened his mouth to tell Spike he was right when the relaxed leg under his cheek suddenly went rigid, and a moment later Spike was scrambling to his feet, demon out and growling.

That _feeling_ \- seething, gnawing - was back, hideously strong, and Xander felt the hyena rise to the surface - saw Oz shift half to the wolf, growling along with Spike. As one, the three of them turned to the door, and someone was there, just beyond the light. Spike was crouched to leap, Xander was shivering with reaction, baring his teeth, and Oz was shifting further to the wolf, a sing-song wail threading up out of his throat. A pale hand tipped with long, red-lacquered nails coalesced out of the darkness and scratched at the screen door.

"Ssspike..." a voice sighed - sang - and Spike was at the door before Xander saw him begin to move

"Drusilla?"

The nails scratched again - the hand flattened on the screen, pressing at the barrier that kept her out, and Drusilla stepped up to the doorway. Xander felt a peculiar wrench, somewhere in his heart. _Dru_. Spike's memories rose like a swarm of wasps, shuttling rapidly from Drusilla as seen through William's human eyes to the first night the _vampire_ saw her; to China, to Berlin - to Prague and a frenzied mob. Drusilla pulling Spike _*himself*_ out of the rubble of a church and Drusilla writhing in the grip of visions - of prophecy. Drusilla and Angelus... The link was thick with longing and love and _fear_ , and Xander didn't think he could move from the couch. And the hyena howled.

_* **Mine!** *_

 

Spike stood at the screen door, staring out. _*This isn't real, what the **fuck** , oh gods...*_ "Dru, what is - what are you _doing_? You're making me feel all - wrong, pet. Can't you make it stop?"

Drusilla smiled at him, head to one side, her nails scratching slowly down the screen. She was wearing something low-cut and black, and there were half-healed burns on her chest and neck. "It's a spell, my beautiful boy. To keep the Slayer away…."

 _*Keep her away? Make her come hot on the trail, more like. Dru, pet, what are you **doing**....*_ "It works a treat, Dru. But it's - it's hurting me, pet. Can't you make it stop now?" 

Drusilla frowned at him, then she dipped her fingers into the bodice of her dress and pulled out a red glass bead. "Wouldn't hurt you, my sweet Spike," she whispered, and crushed the bead in her fingers. The creeping _wrongness_ shattered as the bead did, and Spike breathed a sigh of relief - heard Xander and Oz do the same.

_*Thank god. Spike….*_

_*All right, love, all right. Safe.*_ He could feel _Drusilla_ now - his Sire, his _goddess_. The steady pulse of her that was fire-fly flicker and heat lightning and a skirling keen that was almost like static. The voices she lived with - prayed to - scolded and begged and sang to. Familiar and almost comforting. The _link_ \- that silver chain of agony and rapture, blood and lust and need that had tied him to her for so long. His _Sire_ , fucking _Christ_ , and he could already feel tension from Xander.

 _*Mine mine **mine** *_ from the hyena, unconscious and implacable.

"What are you doing here, Dru?"

"I've come to coax you, Spike. To woo and win you. To show you...such things, such lovely things..." Drusilla swept her nails over the screen, her voice a crooning murmur, and Spike reached up - put his hand flat on the screen. He could only feel the pressure, as she leaned into the barrier.

"Ask me in, sweet? Ask your darling girl in?" Spike stared at her - shook himself, pulling his hand back.

"Can't, love. Not my house, is it? It's Xander's house."

Dru looked past him and her eyes went wide, and then she smiled again, fluttering her lashes. "Oh, we remember him - yes, we do. Sweet boy, _lovely_ boy, a poem of a boy…. Do you remember that, boy? That you are a poem?"

_*Spike? What -*_

_*It's all right. Safe. Love you.*_

"I - remember, Drusilla." Xander slithered off the couch and took a hesitant step closer to the door - another, and then stopped.

Dru watched him, switching her skirts a little from side to side. "Did I ever tell you your poem, sweet? I see you, you know - I see the tin-toy soldier and the beast, the ravening beast. It rends the air - it worries at your heart, sweet…." Drusilla put both palms flat on the screen and leaned in close, her eyes on Xander, and Spike felt the unease through the link - sent reassurance, sent love. She couldn't get past _him_ , and Xander had nothing to fear.

 _"...Come near me now...Dear dying fall of wings...as birds complain against the gathering dark...  
exaggerate the scarlet blood in grass... the music of leaves scraping space...all that is rare grows in common beauty, to rest with my mouth on your mouth...as somewhere a star falls....and the earth takes it softly...exactly as we take each other... and go to sleep...oh sleep…."_ Her eyes had slowly closed, her voice had dropped to a whisper, and Spike felt Xander come up close behind him.

_*Beautiful. Scares me.*_

_*Scares me too, sometimes. Keep you safe.*_

_*I know.*_

Spike reached back and took Xander's hand in his, the warm fingers interlacing with his own. Anchoring him there, against the moon-drunk tidal pull that was Drusilla.

"You should keep your face to the light, sweet beast. You'll draw moths." Drusilla looked down at their entwined hands - looked up at Spike from beneath her lashes, her nails scratching at the screen again, metallic scrape that shivered over his nerves. The sycamores in the yard creaked gently, pushed by the wind, and a fine mist seemed to be coalescing out of the air, silvering every surface and haloing the sodium glare of the streetlights.

"You took him, didn't you." Not a question, and for a moment her demon was there; golden eyes like lamps and her mouth twisting in a snarl, showing fangs. Then it was gone, and she was herself again - cat-eyed and slyly smiling, _scrape scrape_ at the screen. "Oh, I see what you did, my Spike - I see. Drank him down without even _thinking_ to ask me, without even...a word to the wise..." She frowned, and shivered a little, looking over her shoulder. "There's more to you than _him_ , though. More to you…. "

She looked beyond them both at Oz, who was standing by the couch still, just watching her. "Collecting your pets, Spike? Making the little dogs dance to _your_ tune?"

"Family, Dru. Don't mistake me." Spike watched her as she frowned again - lifted her head and scented the air, watching Oz.

"And _he's_ no simple song, is he, Spike? He's no...sheep in wolf's clothing. Wears his rue with a _difference_.... Who taught him to sing the moon to sleep?"

"He went to Tibet, Dru. To the monks. He learned how to - control it."

"Ohhh...control. It's a tricky thing, that. You never know when it's going to _snap_." Dru clapped her hands together sharply, grinning, and Oz flinched just a little.

_*Pack*_

_*Pack. Safe, wolfling, safe.*_

"Oh...I've poetry for you too, wolfling, quisling, changeling-boy. They tried to break you, oh, bleed you, but my boy, my Spike...." She leaned her forehead into the screen, shuddering. _"The moon, the moon, a circle of smudged bone in a charcoaled sky, scratched clean of stars...And the moon followed me through the skeleton branches and leaves of the winter trees...And the moon followed me down the dry, salt-dusted roads...And the moon danced, drunk on air as clear and sharp as bootleg whiskey...And the moon was in love with me, and I was in love with the moon...."_ She took in a sharp breath, head still bowed, and Spike frowned.

"Drusilla....what are you doing up here? You were - I thought you were happy, down in Brazil."

Drusilla lifted her head, smiling now - that dreamy smile that meant she was _seeing_ things - hearing the songs of the stars, the voices of the stones. "Oh, Spike, I heard, I _heard_ , they told me - told us, Miss Edith and I.... Told us about electricity, and how it lies. Told us you were caught and kenneled and _bad dog_ , Spike!" She made a little dog-growl, baring her teeth.

"But we knew, oh, we knew... It was all a lie. And those soldiers - not like the soldiers when _I_ was a girl, no; no plumes and swords and white gloves for _them_.... They just wanted a whipping-boy, Spike, they just wanted... " Drusilla grinned suddenly, and her eyes rolled back in her head, sliver of white under fluttering lashes, her nails suddenly rending the screen, leaden _riiip_.

"Plague-rat, Judas goat, _golem_ , Spike - coming in among them and they _burned_ , sweet boy, oh, they _burned_ and they shrieked and they clawed and they _died_ , and I knew it was you, knew it was _you_ , my Spike, my own - clever, clever boy...." She twisted her head, snapping at the air, and Xander's hand tightened down sharply on Spike's.

 _*Safe love. Safe pack always.*_ Reassuring _both_ of them. But feeling a tide of unholy glee rising up in him, as well. "Dru pet, are you saying - the Initiative - the soldiers down there in Brazil... They died? Did they die, dolly?"

Dru snapped her teeth again - yanked once on the screen, tearing it a little more, grinning at Spike with the demon gleaming out of her eyes. "Oh yes, love, yes yes yes, they died and died and _died_ , and I could _smell_ you all in it, Spike, could _see_ you. Like the angel Michael coming down with his sword; Dragon of _God_ , Spike, but no god would have you, would he, no god would have _us_...." Drusilla's voice choked off and she put her hands over her face, panting a little, and Spike wanted to reach and touch her - soothe her, as he'd always done.

"Pet - Dru, don't cry, darling -"

"Oh Spike - _Spike_ \- he hurt us, he _burned_ us! Why doesn't he love us anymore, _why_?" Dru lifted her head, wild-eyed, and Spike shook his head in confusion.

"Who doesn't love you, Drusilla? Who burned you?"

" _Daddy_ did it," she snarled, and the demon was suddenly there and Drusilla _roared_ , pure fury, and Xander took a step back.

_*Fuck!*_

_*All right, it's all right.*_

"Angelus burned you, pet? What do you mean?"

"He killed her, Spike! Killed our grand-mummy. But they brought her _back_ \- magicked her back but she was all _wrong_ , she was all - bleeding and breathing and _dying_ \- so I fixed it, Spike, I fixed her and made her cold again, made her _right_."

"You mean - Darla?" Spike asked, utterly bewildered, and Drusilla nodded happily.

"And then we went to daddy, and we told him...we _sang_ to him, oh, we whispered to him, _come back, come home, come be family_...." Dru swayed, her hands clasped to her breast, the demon fading away and her eyes closing in remembered bliss. "But he _wouldn't_! He _burned_ us, and he.... He wasn't right." She opened her eyes - looked at Spike, and there were tears there, welling but not falling, making her eyes huge and luminous.

"Won't you come back with me, Spike?" she whispered. "Won't you come and help me - won't you come and help grand-mummy? We can be a family again, sweet, my sweet Spike. _Family_ , just like before, all like before…."

Spike felt the leaden fear coming from Xander and he shook his head, fighting that siren song, that seductive-sweet lure that was Dru at her very best - her very worst. "Dru - pet - I can't. Angelus - he's gone over - he _left_ us, and he's tried to kill us - he's just...not _ours_ anymore, dolly. Not ours anymore."

"No, _no_!" Dru seized the door-frame - shook it a little, making the wood creak. "Spike - he _could_ be! If we do it just right, you and me - he loved you and me, he _did_ , sweet, he did! We could bring him back, we could skin that soul out of him like a fish-bone, Spike, just a little cut, a little tug and he'd be _ours_ again!"

"No, Dru. I've got my family here, now. I can't - I won't."

Drusilla stared at him, eyes wide, then her mouth trembled and she crumpled down onto the porch, her fingers buried in her hair and twisting, pulling. A keening wail rose up out of her and Spike felt it go through him like a knife. He watched her, trembling with the effort of not moving - not reaching out for her.

_*Love - go to her.*_

Spike looked at Xander in utter shock and met dark, anxious eyes - reached to touch the grimly set mouth. "Xander, love -"

"It's all right, Spike. She needs you - she won't - it'll be okay, right?" _*Love you love you **mine** *_

Oz came up beside Xander - nodded once, eyes flicking from him to Dru and back. _*Safe. Love you.*_

_*Family mine always*_

Spike pressed a quick kiss to Xander's mouth and then slipped out the door. He sat down beside Drusilla - pulled her gently into his arms and rocked her, crooning softly. She clawed at his shirt - pushed at him - but ultimately slumped into his embrace, wetting his shirt with tears, clutching at him and moaning. Spike smoothed her hair - breathed deeply of her scent; of musk and incense and licorice, of blood. It whispered _home_ to him, somewhere down in the pit of his heart. But Xander and Oz, casting love and worry and _want_ through the link drowned it out - silenced it. 

"Doesn't love us, doesn't love us, oh Spike, Spike what did - what did I _do_ , was I bad? Was I _bad_ , Spike?" Little girl begging forgiveness, and Spike felt the twist of love and pity and rage he always felt, when Dru was driven to this by _him_ , by Angel. Always Angel, twitching her strings and making her dance to this miserable tune.

"Hush, pet, hush now - it's not him, is it? It's not Angelus down there, it's something else and we don't want him, darling, we don't need him. _You_ don’t need him."

"But it _hurts_ , Spike. It huurts...oh... Let me be with _you_ , Spike! Let me -" Drusilla pushed herself upright - wiped her face with her hands and smiled at him, looked in at Xander and Oz with a sly, sidelong glance.

"They'd be so _good_ , love, they'd be - like new wine and cakes, oh, sweet and _sharp_ , the serpent's tooth...." Her voice was a conspiratorial whisper "Let me, Spike - for you I'll do it gentle as frost, love, gentle as the hangman's noose.... Beat time for the Tyburn jig...."

She gazed up, wide-eyed and hopeful, and Spike put one hand gently to her cheek. She leaned into the caress - took his hand in hers and kissed it - palm, fingers, thumb. Then she _bit_ , hard, and Spike jerked away in startlement, blood spattering to the porch floor from the base of his thumb. Drusilla yanked his hand back and licked - cleaned his palm and sucked lightly on the bite, sending shudders through Spike's body.

_*Love, what -*_

_*All right. Just...learning.*_

Suddenly Drusilla jerked away - shot to her feet and backed away from him. Her tongue darted out to a drop of blood in the corner of her mouth and she licked it - stared at him.

"Spike, _Spike_ , oh, what have you done, _what_ have you done? I can _taste_ him, Spike! Oh, the others, the olders, the _hidden_ ones, Spike, Spike..." Drusilla put her fists to her temples and swayed, moaning, and Spike stood up and slowly approached her. 

"What do you mean, pet?"

" _Jack_ , that's what he calls himself, Jack the Lad, Jack in the Green, but he's _not_ , Spike! No cup of wonder, no twining vine for _you_ , not from him, not from _him_."

"He helped me, Dru." Spike stroked her wrists - gently pulled her hands down from her head and she blinked up at him, bewildered. "He fixed that - that thing, in my head. Took the pain away."

"But Spike - you _know_ you can't trust them! Now he's _in_ you -" Dru looked utterly shocked - terrified - and Spike pushed away his own faint feelings of dread.

"No, pet - he owed Xander, that's how he paid his debt. I tasted his truth, dolly. No harm. And it got my bite back. Fuckin' soldiers."

Dru blinked and then grinned, giggling. "You made them pay, Spike, oh yes... made them pay." She looked at him - head to one side, her hands making strange, dancing motions in the air. "You're not going to come with me, are you Spike? And...I can't be your darling anymore, can I? Can't be your one and only, can't be...your girl."

Still now, so very still, and Spike looked back into the house, at Xander and Oz standing and watching. At candle-light and the rumpled sofa-bed, the TV mute and flickering. _Human_ things. And not. Things he wanted - things he _needed_ \- so desperately.

Xander smiled at him. _*Love you Spike*_

Spike stepped up close to Drusilla and stroked her cheek - gently kissed her forehead. The mist had settled in minuscule silver beads along her lashes - on the tendrils of black hair that coiled about her face. She looked like a water-nymph, or drowned Ophelia; hurt and betrayal held forever in those fathomless eyes.

"I'm so sorry, pet," he whispered. "You - told me to go, Dru. You sent me away... I've what I need _here_ \- I've family, now. One that won't ever -"

"Won't ever cut you, lover, won't ever twist your heart and scratch your soul...." Dru whispered back and Spike stared at her in shock.

"Dru?"

"Oh, I _know_ , love - I've always known. It's what made you so...bright. So very special and sweet. _Effulgent_ , dearest William, sweet boy… _my_ boy, remember?" Dru's voice, whispering soft and low, her eyes like stars shining up at him, and he _did_ remember, in a rush of bittersweet images and emotions. Being _seen_ \- at long, long last. Desired and...wanted. What he _was_ , laid out like pictures in a scrap-book, and Drusilla touching each one - _loving_ each one. Wanting them for her own - wanting him. Spike shivered, remembering, and Dru leaned up and gently, lightly, kissed him.

"There you are, Spike. Shining fire-bright and burning to your marrow but you'll come 'round right, Spike, my Spike. You'll slip the leash again, oh yes. Never fear." She touched Spike's chest, over his heart, and she was the child again - the lost little girl that Angelus had ripped to shreds and sewn back up all wrong - patchwork doll in a tattered dress.

"Not mine anymore are you, Spike? Not mine, not his. Your _own_. Lucifer after the Fall and no one to tell you what you shan't do, anymore." A hesitation, and then she stretched up again, to kiss again; this time lingeringly and Spike felt her to his core - to the root of his being, he felt her madness and her loneliness and her _need_ , but then she pulled away and the others were there.

Xander was an ache in the link - a need as strong as Dru's, a want as selfish and fierce. But he was warmth, as well - hearthfire and sunlight, laughter and desire and _love_. And Oz was _pack_ , stronger than even the demon - family and safety and trust, unquestioning and unflinching.

Dru was standing at the door again, and Xander moved closer - Oz with him - and they both stood there, looking out at her. "An angel falling like a star from heaven. But that's what angels do best, you know - and falling, sometimes...they can find their way home. Don't be sorry for that golden angel. Good beast, sweet beast...let me - " The demon, scenting the air and holding out one hand, _wanting_ and Xander turned to Spike, confusion in his eyes.

_*What does she want?*_

_*Taste of you. Only...if **you** want. No harm.*_

Xander gazed at him, then a small smile lifted the corner of his mouth. _*Trust you. Love you.*_ Xander put his hand on the screen - eased his fingers out through the rip Dru had made, touching fingertip to fingertip with her. Dru leaned down and rested her fanged mouth lightly on his hand - turned it palm up and kissed a fingertip, and her mouth came away bloody. She closed her eyes with a shiver, her tongue-tip chasing every drop. Then she sighed, and cast a mournful, longing look at Spike.

"Oh, _Spike_.... That's why..." Blindly, she turned and groped at the screen, and Oz glanced at Spike - put his hand out, as well, and suffered the same nip in turn. "Ooh..." Drusilla shuddered, fingers to her mouth, and then opened her eyes wide, startling them all with a pealing, genuinely happy laugh.

"Beat him, didn't you sweet? _He_ wanted a family, one that was all his; Daddy and little children, his to tell and make.... But you _have_ it. Acid, don't you think? Salt." Dru giggled again, and put her palm to Spike's cheek - held his gaze, in that way that had tricked the Watcher and killed the dark Slayer.

" _I_ gave you the gift, gave you the _will_. You...made your path like fire in the night. Like a rain of stars." She backed away from him, slowly, and Spike felt her go - felt her slipping free of his soul and of his heart and cutting the ties of blood and love and need - silver knife twisting across his ribs.

 _*Oh Dru, my girl...*_ But then, _warmth_ , and Xander leaning in the doorway, smiling at him, Oz's hand lightly on his shoulder.

_*Love you love you always, always mine, my own **my** vampire.*_

_*Family love you.*_

Spike hugged his arms around himself - cocked his head to listen, a fragment of something floating to him from the dark.

_"Jesus he was a handsome man and what I want to know is how do you like your blueeyed boy Mister Death."_

The clouds, that had lain low and heavy all night suddenly opened, and it began to rain.

 

 

_____________________  
The movie quoted is _Ravenous_  
Drusilla is quoting, and changing, Kenneth Patchen's _Fall of the Evening Star_  
_In Love with the Moon_ is an original poem by myself  
'Tyburn Jig' refers to being hung at Tyburn, a place of public execution in London  
Drusilla also obliquely references Jethro Tull (cup of wonder), Shakespeare (wear your rue with a difference) and quotes a fragment of e.e. cummings _Buffalo Bill_


	25. Encounter

Slow, slow push - pause - slow pull out. And again, and again. Xander tightened his calves around Spike's ribs - ran shaking hands over neck and shoulders and tense, quivering biceps.

_*Spike...love you...love you, ohhh*_ Above him, golden sparks drifted; demon's eyes, watching him as unwaveringly as he watched back.

_*So fucking perfect, pet...love you, Xander, love you so much*_

_*Oh God...*_ Xander raised his hips a little higher, trembling. His whole body felt as if it were being shot through with an electrical pulse, over and over. A tingling, warming judder every time Spike moved - pressed _there_. His legs ached - his throat was dry from panting. But he didn't want it to end; he didn't want Spike to stop moving, stop touching, stop being right _there_ , so close he barely knew which was his own body and which was Spike's.

A delicious _fusion_ \- the link open wide and ghost-sensation of fucking while he was _being_ fucked making him bite his lip bloody - making him clench inner muscles down tight. The feeling was almost more than he could bear, but he loved it. Loved having Spike there in his head. All the lonely years of his childhood sloughing from him like snakeskin - being replaced with this new thing - this _Spikeskin_ of utter want and need and love - blood and sweetness in equal measure. He pulled at the back of Spike's neck, wanting him closer, and Spike obliged; dipping down to kiss him as slowly as he was fucking him -making minute punctures along his neck, just teasing the claim-scar. 

Xander bit back, not even breaking the skin, hissing in pleasure as Spike's measured thrusts begin to get a little ragged - hurried. Xander mouthed Spike's mark - let his teeth sink in just a bit. Spike's face was pressed tight into him now and Xander _felt_ the change as Spike let the demon all the way out. He ran his hands up over Spike's neck and head and lifted the vampire's face just a little - let his fingertips caress the demon visage, finding the places that make Spike mewl in pleasure. Shuddered a little at the echo that came back to him. His _own_ face tingling in pleasure, his own body arching up and taking Spike further in.

_*Mine mine always mine...*_ Hypnotic murmur from the demon and Xander tipped his head back and urged forward with his hands and the link and Spike claimed him again, bone-deep spasm of pure bliss. His orgasm was almost painful - almost too much. Spike was gasping now, thrusting into him hard enough to shake the bed, and Xander did his own reclaiming, groaning in pleasure as the blood sparked over his tongue and rushed through him like pins and needles - little jolts of lightning.

Afterwards Spike just collapsed on him, rumbling purr like an engine vibrating through them both, and Xander had to laugh at what _that_ felt like; feeling it in his own chest and half-convinced he could do it too, if Spike just kept at it long enough - let him learn it from the inside out.

_*Keep you here all night, all day - forever. Don't need to get up. Wolfling can feed us...*_

Xander laughed aloud, trying to hug Spike closer. "Fuck, I could do that. Does that mean I'm some sort of...weirdo, that I could do that?"

"Means you're smart," Spike mumbled, licking like a cat at the beads of blood and sweat on Xander's neck - kneading his fingers into Xander's back and making him laugh _again._

_*You're so sweet...big fluffy kitty-pire...still need to get you that collar.*_

And _that_ little surge of _*oh fuck yeah*_ made him catch his breath and groan. Xander entertained himself for a few minutes showing Spike _exactly_ what sort of collar - what sort of _game_ \- and Spike whimpered into his neck, writhing against him and getting hard again - getting Xander hard with him, sharing his arousal.

_*Want you **in** me, Xander - fuck...*_ Spike moved - rolled them over, his thighs fanning wide and taking Xander in - pulling him in. Second time they've done this tonight and Xander pushed forward into still-slick flesh. Spike arched up hard - groaned - urged Xander on with sharp nails and a progression of that little kitty fantasy that left Xander gasping - pounding in. This time, when it was over, Xander was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to move for hours.

_*Thank God it's the weekend, Spike, love, can't move, ooohh...*_ Xander kissed what he could reach - shoulder, collarbone - and just panted, his heart pounding. Demon-blood had changed him, but he still had his limits, even if the limits were a lot further out then they used to be. Spike ran his fingers slowly back through Xander's hair, half asleep himself and the purr cutting in and out. Xander giggled softly.

"You're gonna get a spanking if you don't quit that," Spike muttered and Xander gave a half-hearted wiggle, feeling the tug of drying semen on their bellies.

"Oooh, promise?"

"Mmmm..." Spike brought one hand down on Xander's buttock, barely enough force to make a sound and Xander snuggled in a little closer.

_*Gonna be gross in the morning.*_

_*Don't care. Love you love you love...wolfling.*_

"What?" Xander raised his head and looked at Spike, who lifted up an inch and kissed him.

"Wolfling's coming down the street. Guess we play possum?"

"Oh. Guess so. Don't wanna embarrass Derio." Xander caught it now, the pulse of _*frost night moon*_ that whispered ' _Oz_ '.

"Huh. Don't think we could."

"Oh, _sure_ we could," Xander said, and sent an image - Spike, handcuffs, whipped cream, the kitchen table - that made Spike shake with laughter.

"Well, okay, yeah. That might well do it, pet." Spike sighed and settled Xander over him again, shifting a little so Xander could get his hands under his shoulders. _*Like him. He's good for the wolfling.*_

_*Yeah.*_ "He told me his grandma is a - _lyalochas_? A priestess, back in Puerto Rico."

" _Lyalochas_ \- Santeria. Huh."

"You know what that is?" Xander lifted his head from Spike's shoulder and looked at him, utterly unable to keep from grinning into the sleepy blue eyes and contented smile that greeted him.

"Oh, a little bit. It's - one a those religions that started in the islands somewhere when the bloody Catholics tried to convert their slaves. Old religion with a Christian cover so they wouldn't be found out."

"Oh." Xander leaned down to kiss - shifted a little and then froze at the sound of a van door being slammed. "He said that's why he knows about the Hellmouth - she told him about it."

"Huh." Spike kissed him back and then heaved a deep sigh, closing his eyes. "Gotta patrol tomorrow, gotta take care of the Bit..." 

"Yeah," Xander shut his own eyes, feeling that drifting feeling of almost-asleep coming over him fast. The front door creaked a bit, opening, and there were a few moments of scuffling and stifled laughter as Oz and Derio got the sofa-bed unfolded. Faint pulse through the link; Oz just content - happy to be home and happy to be with Derio and Xander smiled into Spike's chest and slept.

 

Patrol was - weird. There was just a strange sort of vibe in the air, and Spike wondered if it was because of Glory or something else. The Slayer and her Watcher had gone out of town on some sort of vision quest, and Spike had been hoping they'd get to do some real damage on patrol - maybe even find some of Glory's scabby little minions and see how much pain they could endure. But there wasn't anything _around_ \- everything seemed to be gone or in hiding and Xander and Oz both commented on it, uneasy.

"Doubt it's anything but this bloody Glory. She's got everybody spooked. She's been trying to recruit - doing a sort of ' _you're with me or you're dying a slow painful death_ ' kind of thing." Spike couldn't keep a bit of admiration out of the link - that was the proper way to do things, after all - and Xander poked him in the ribs.

"Supposed to be on _our_ side, evil undead," he said, and Spike poked him back, grinning.

"Can't help it if I think she's got the right idea. Won't help her, though. She's still gonna be dead as soon as we figure out _how_. I still think if me and the Slayer -"

"No, no, and _no_ , Spike!" Xander was frowning now, and Spike cocked an eyebrow at him, patting the duster pockets for his cigarettes. "We talked about that - you and Buffy aren't going to do anything as _crazy_ as taking her on alone. Especially now that we know she does that … _mind suck_ thing." Xander shuddered and Spike shrugged, lighting up.

"She wouldn't know what hit her," he mumbled.

"Wonder if you could drain her? I mean - god blood. Gotta be good stuff," Oz mused, and Xander poked _him_.

"Stop that! Don't give him any ideas, Oz!" Oz just grinned, and Spike winked at him behind Xander's back. _*Know you did that!*_ in the link and Spike laughed out loud.

"Oh, pet, don't -" Spike stopped abruptly, listening, and they shared a look between them - as one began to trot through the cemetery. There was a fight going on somewhere up ahead. They dove through a stand of trees and stopped in consternation. Two vamps, circling - one limping. And Buffy, stake at the ready. One vamp lunged forward and Buffy whirled and kicked and _pounced_ , dusting him. The limping vamp looked as if he wanted to run away but a moment later Buffy flattened him and then she was standing up, dusting off her hands. She glanced over at them and stared for a minute, then walked over.

"Hey Buff, I thought you were out of town - doin' that dreamy visiony questy thing with Giles?"

"Xander. You build things," Buffy said, and Spike snorted, flicking his cigarette butt away.

"No points for stating the obvious, Slayer," he said, and Buffy turned to look at him.

"Spike. You're a vampire," she said - and launched herself at him, her hand and her stake going up and coming _down_ with deadly intent. Spike dodged, astonished, and kicked her in the back of the knee, making her reel. Xander and Oz were both frozen for one long moment and then they tackled her, pinning her to the ground. She fought back, almost heaving the both of them off, and Oz wolfed a little, growling. Spike stomped on her wrist and snatched the stake away - kneeled over her legs and snarled at  
her, demon-faced and furious.

"Slayer, what the _fuck_ are you doing!"

"Buffy! Spike's not the enemy anymore!" _*mine mine **mine**!*_ from the hyena and _*Not pack!*_ from the wolf, anger and bewilderment in equal measure.

Buffy stared at them - abruptly stopped struggling. "Of course he's not. I knew that." She blinked and smiled, and Xander recoiled just a bit. The smile was - strange.

_*What in hell -*_

_*Think she's...under a spell or something?*_

_*Smells wrong*_ from Oz, and Spike took in a deep breath - realized it was so.

"Let me up, please," Buffy said, and they exchanged glances.

"You gonna behave, Slayer?"

"Of course I am." That weird smile again, and they slowly got off her. She sat up and brushed her hair back, frowning at the dirt on her hands.

Spike crouched by her feet, watching her. "Slayer, that - vision quest thing - it didn't involve...peyote or some such, did it?"

Buffy blinked at him - frowned. "Of course not! Drugs are for losers." She stood up and brushed off the seat of her pants. "Now I have to go patrol some more. Good night." She strode away, looking determined, and the three of them slowly got to their feet.

"Okay. That was -"

"Weird," Xander finished, and Oz nodded. "Do you think the vision quest thing screwed her up?"

"Dunno. She smelled like..." Spike paused, thinking over the sense-memory in his head.

"Chemicals. Or..." Xander shrugged, looking puzzled. "Like plastic. Like she had a new raincoat on or something. But she didn't."

"Weird," Oz said, and Spike lit another cigarette.

"Let's go to the Slayer's house. See if maybe the witches know something," he said finally, and Xander and Oz agreed. Oz was thinking _*Derio*_ in the link - thinking he needed to call him, tell him not to wait up, and Xander and Spike both felt guilt over that. But Oz just shook his head at them, grinning a little. Derio _knew_ \- and understood, and he'd asked, not long after meeting them, just what Spike was.

_"Get these...feelings, sometimes. From my abuela, from my granny." A shrug. "Mom says."_

_"Feeling - what?" Spike asked, for once utterly serious, and Derio had looked at him across the table at the Bronze, his eyes a little distant, his fingers absently finding and turning a green glass bead threaded on a dreadlock._

_"Feeling...heat. And - movement? Like you're flame. Always something...bright, in the corner of my eye. Something that makes me feel...safe." Spike hadn't said anything, then, and Xander had wanted very much to use the seeing, and know what Derio looked like. But he hadn't, and Oz had touched Derio's hand and nodded at Spike._

_"Vampire, Derio. An old one." Derio had looked at Spike - nodded once, like that explained everything._

_Later, Spike had sat staring blankly at the pages of a book until Xander had nudged him, and then Spike had looked quizzically over at him, head to one side. "You think he can see me...us?" Spike had asked, and Xander had thought about that._

_"I think he can see...what you are."_

_"What am I, then?"_

_"Special. Mine. Best beloved."_

 

At the Summer's house, the witches, Dawn, and Anya were playing Monopoly, all of them wearing pyjamas. Spike leered appreciatively at Tara and Willow and Anya - chucked Dawn under the chin.

"Having a sleepover then? Gonna braid your hair and talk about that - Timberlot fellow?"

"Timber _lake_ , Spike, and I am _so_ not into him. Anymore." Dawn blushed and Spike laughed - threw himself down on the couch next to her.

"Spike, you're wearing eye liner." Anya observed. Spike shrugged, sending a quick, laughing glance towards Xander.

"Thought I'd give the bad guys a thrill." Anya shook her head, but she was smiling.

"So - how'd the vision quest thing go for Buffy?" Xander asked, settling on the floor between Willow and Tara. Oz sprawled down next to Anya and admired her piles of play money.

"Oh, well, see, we don't _know_ about the vision quest thing 'cause - she's not _back_ from the vision quest thing. They'll be back tomorrow." Willow tugged at her robe nervously and Spike grinned at her.

"No - I mean - we just saw her. Out patrolling." Willow looked at Tara - at Anya - and there was a sudden frission in the air. Fear, maybe.

Spike felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and he sat up, growling just a little. "She's not come home early, then? Are you sure?"

"Well, of _course_ we're sure; she'd have come straight here, wouldn't she? I mean - she would, right?" Willow looked at Tara again, anxiously, and Tara took her hand.

"Sure she would, sweetie."

"Or maybe she had to de-brief. You know - put down her experiences or something so she went to Giles' house instead," Anya said. She straightened a stack of blue money and smiled. "I like this game."

"Yeah - maybe that's what she did. I think I'll call Giles, just to be sure." Xander got up and went into the kitchen for the phone, unease in the link. Spike exchanged glances with Oz - settled back down on the sofa.

"So - what do you mean you just saw her? Where were you?" Dawn asked, looking worried.

"Sunnydale Memorial.," Oz said. "She dusted a couple vamps and..." He stopped, frowning, and Spike picked up where he's left off.

"And had a little chat with us." He glanced up at Xander who was coming back into the living room. He was frowning as well. "No joy then, pet?"

"Huh? No. I mean, no answer at Giles place. I think... I think we'll go by there, see if he's home and just - in the shower or something. Oz -" _*Watch Dawn?*_

_*Yeah. Careful*_

_*Safe as houses, wolf.*_

"Think I'll stay and try to buy Anya out," Oz said, sitting up and scooting closer to the coffee table.

"In your dreams, Mowgli," Anya chuckled, cracking her knuckles. They stared at her. Anya stared back. "Hey, I like Disney, too."

"Oh! We have double-fudge almond ice cream, Oz, want some?" Willow bounced to her feet and Oz smiled up at her.

"Sure Willow." Willow bustled off and Spike stood up, ruffling Dawn's hair.

"You stay in now, hear me, Bit?"

Dawn stuck out her tongue. "Duh. I'm in my pj's already, Spike!"

"Just sayin', Bit." _*Let's go*_

"Okay, we'll swing by later, after we check Giles' place."

Xander waved and Tara stood up, walking them to the door. "Do you think its okay?" she asked softly, and Spike looked over her shoulder at Dawn and Anya, who were squabbling over whether or not to start fresh or just let Oz start in the middle.

"It'll be fine, Glinda. Just a little mix up or something." Spike held her gaze for a moment and Tara finally nodded.

"Okay - you guys be careful."

"Ta, pet." Spike and Xander slipped out the door and down the walk, and by the time they'd reached the end of the block they were running.

 

Giles' place was dark and locked - he wasn't home, his car wasn't there. They decided to go by the Magic Box, just in case, and Xander fretted as they jogged down side streets.

_*Be all right, love.*_

_*Yeah...but...*_ He couldn't shrug off his feeling of _wrongness_ , and it only got worse when they found the Magic Box as deserted as Giles' apartment. They swung back through the cemetery but if Buffy was still around, they didn't find her. Then they went by the Bronze - Willy's - anyplace they could think of. They even roamed over the UCS campus, but everything was quiet.

_*Too quiet*_ Spike thought, and Xander snorted in amusement - looked over at Spike who was grinning around a cigarette, walking along the top of the wall outside of yet another cemetery - Peaceful Rest or something. At the moment, Xander couldn't even remember.

"Who _names_ cemeteries, anyway? They all have these terrible, cheesy names."

"Well, most humans would be upset if they called 'em 'Worm Buffet' or 'Last Stop before Hell Gardens'," Spike said, doing a jump-step over a decorative piece of wrought iron.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess. Makes more sense, though." _*Everybody wants to hide from death*_ the soldier mumbled, and Xander winced a little. The soldier had been - down, lately. Xander had no idea why, unless it was because he repeatedly squashed the soldier's more fanciful solutions to the Glory problem. Hijacking nuclear waste being the latest.

_*He's right, though.*_ Spike thought, and Xander rolled his eyes.

_*See! I'm right. Bunch'a pansies pretendin' that there's no death, no pain, no Grim Reaper waitin' for them….*_

"Jeez, don't encourage him. He's so...moody, lately."

"He just needs to work out some frustrations," Spike said, jumping down and pinning Xander against the wall. Several minutes of intense 'snogging' at least made the soldier shut up, and they made their way in a convoluted fashion back to the Summer's house, arms around each other's waists. Oz was out front, swinging slowly in the porch swing, looking more like a fox than a wolf at the moment. He'd re-dyed his hair dark henna-red but tipped it with gold and bronze, so that the pale, spiked ends made a sort of glowing halo against the porch light. The house was dark and quiet - the girls all in bed.

_*Pack safe*_ softly, and Xander and Spike joined him, Spike pulling out his flask and having a little sip.

"So, no Buffy?" Xander asked.

"No Buffy. No Giles?"

"Nope." They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Oz sighed.

"I think we should stay here tonight. It feels..." _*Wrong. Bad.*_

"Yeah. Think you're right, wolf." They sat out a while longer, but it was nearly four a.m. and Xander and Oz were yawning. Spike said he'd make one more quick patrol - he was hungry - and Xander and Oz went inside to light-proof the living room. They made a pallet on the floor, moving quietly, and Xander felt his heart almost stop when he saw a figure on the stairs.

" _Christ_ , Dawn! What are you doing up!" he said in a harsh whisper.

"I was hungry," Dawn said, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling. "Can't I get a snack in my own house?"

Xander went over to her - put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "Sure you can, Dawnster. You just startled me is all."

"Your eyes were all - green," Dawn said, looking uncertainly up at him, and Xander grinned at her, urging her off the last step and into the kitchen.

"Yeah. Just the hyena, you know? It can't hurt you."

"Oh. Yeah. I'm not afraid of him - he thinks I'm part of your - your pack." Dawn climbed up on a stool at the island and Xander opened the 'fridge.

"Yeah, that's right. It - he - does. So, what's it gonna be? Pizza, fried chicken, or... ummm....argh." Xander held a Tupperware at arms length, eyeing the greenish contents with trepidation.

"I _think_ that's the leftover beef stew Buffy made. She's discovered the crock pot."

"It's turned, then."

"No, that's what it was like when she made it." They giggled together, and Dawn settled for a slice of cold pizza and a glass of milk. Oz wandered in and dug out crackers and cheese, and Xander made a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. They ate in companionable silence, and all three of them jumped when the back door creaked open.

"Everybody having a snack, then? Dawn! You should be in bed." Spike stood in the doorway, faintly outlined by the paling sky, and Dawn frowned at him.

"Sheesh! My house! Late night snack! Over the age of six! Get over it, guys." Dawn chugged her milk and Spike grinned and shut the door - snagged a cheese-and-cracker sandwich from Oz.

_*All quiet?"_

_*Sunnydale is dead, pet.*_ Xander chuckled and reached for the peanut butter - flinched and almost dropped it when Dawn squealed.

"Spike! You - there's blood! Are you hurt?" She jumped off her stool and darted over to him - reached with her napkin to dab at a streak of blood on Spike's jaw.

"Is there? No, I'm not hurt, Niblet."

"But - where did..." Dawn stared up at him and then a huge grin threatened to crack her face in two. "I _knew_ it! I talked to Anya about it and she said she thought so, and now I _know_!"

"Know what, Bit?" _*What the hell?*_

_*No idea.*_

Dawn glanced around - leaned in close to Spike. "You got the chip out, didn't you." They all three stared at her in shock, and Dawn cackled and bounced in place like a demented old crone. "I _knew_ it!"

"Uh, Dawnie -" _*Fuck, Spike, what -*_

"Don't worry, Xander, I won't tell anybody. I mean, Spike's good now, so I know he's only eating people that are, you know, murderers and child molesters and stuff. Anya said 'once a demon always a demon' but _I_ know you wouldn't kill innocent people, Spike."

_*Good grief.*_

_*Can't hide anything from the Bit.*_ Spike looked smug, but also a bit anxious. "Listen, Niblet...you're right. It's - gone. But let's just keep it quiet, alright? Red - doesn't need to know."

_*Spike!*_

_*Be all right. Niblet's all right.*_

_*Yeah, but...sheesh.*_ Xander, Spike and Oz exchanged glances - looked at Dawn.

"Does Buffy know?"

"Yeah, an' the Watcher. I just think Red might - hold a grudge, you know?"

"'Cause you tried to bite her that one time? Buffy told me all about it. I don't think she'd mind."

"Oh, I think she'd mind, Dawn. Let's just keep it our secret, okay?" Xander didn't like that - lying to Dawn - but he wasn't about to tell her about Spike's drunken threats to Willow, either, ages ago when Drusilla had first left him. The three of them had discussed it, and they just didn't feel… _right_...telling Willow. She made the wolf and the hyena nervous as hell and the soldier didn't trust her. The demon hated all things magical, oddly enough, and all of that just made Xander second-guess himself. _He_ trusted Willow, but he couldn't put aside the others' feelings, and had reluctantly agreed not to tell her. She didn't really _need_ to know, Spike had said, and if she doesn't ask, there's no need to bring it up. They had no idea if Buffy or Giles had ever spoken about it - it tended not to come up.

Oz thought Tara probably knew, because her abilities to see below the surface were far stronger than she let on. But she'd never mentioned it, and they knew if they told her, they'd have to tell Willow. So for now, the witches were being kept in the dark. Xander didn't like it, but he didn't feel like he had a choice. He glanced unhappily at Spike, then back to Dawn.

"You're right Dawn. Spike _is_ good now, so we don't need to make Willow worry." Xander tried to keep a straight face at the mental barrage of curses and threats that Spike was sending him - Oz didn't even try but laughed helplessly over the cheese. Spike glared at them and stalked into the living room, and Dawn took her glass over to the sink.

"I can tell Anya I'm right though, can't I? She promised she'd buy me anything I wanted off of eBay if I was right." Oz snorted and began wrapping up the cheese and crackers, and Xander got the dishcloth to wipe the island down.

"Oh, why not. Just tell her not to babble it to Tara and Willow, okay? Spike won't hurt them - any of us - so..."

"Okay Xander. We'll keep it our little secret."

"How - what made you think it was gone, anyway?" Xander asked, curious.

Dawn looked thoughtful for minute. "Anya was talking about it. She said - Spike acted different. And then, she saw him down at the Bronze one night and some guy was hassling him over a pool game and he punched him and Anya said it didn't hurt him. I thought maybe the guy was another demon but... She was right. He _does_ act different. More like when he first came here. For a while he was just...angry all the time." Dawn looked seriously over at Xander. "He _is_ good now, right?"

"As good as he'll ever be, Dawn. You don't have to be scared of him, though. He'd never hurt you."

"I know." Dawn grinned up at Xander and bounced into the living room and a moment later the curses started through the link again as Dawn started asking Spike rapid-fire questions about the chip, who he hunted, how it had happened….

_*Xander! Get in here! Get her off me!*_

_*Big Bad needs some help, huh?*_ Xander tossed the dishcloth down and he and Oz went into the living room. Spike was on the pallet on his back, a pillow over his head, and Dawn was sitting on his stomach pummeling the pillow and whisper-shouting ' _Talk! Talk! Talk!_ '

"C'mon, Dawn, don't torment the poor vampire."

Dawn pouted but rolled off Spike - snuggled down on the pallet. "I wanna sleep down here." She saw the look Xander and Oz shared and sniffed a little. "I'm scared upstairs by myself, with Buffy not here and everything... She's okay, isn't she?" This time the sniff sounded genuine, and Spike came out from under the pillow, shoving it under his head.

"She's fine, Bit. I think her - quest thing - must have been pretty intense, is all, and she just wanted some privacy to work it all out."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, poppet." Dawn smiled tremulously at Spike and Spike reached out and gently petted her hair. Xander sat down heavily and took off his boots - tossed them into the corner with Oz's and then started on Spike's laces.

_*And I thought my childhood was weird. Vampires and werewolves and Hellgods -*_

_*Oh my*_ , double chorus from Spike and Oz at the same moment and Xander grinned down at Spike's boot-laces, wrenching a knot free. 

"You can sleep on the couch, Dawn. It's softer then the floor."

"No, wanna stay down here with you guys," Dawn mumbled, and Xander could see her eyes were closed. 

_*Oh man, she's out. Think it'd be okay...?*_

_*It'll be fine. We'll tuck her up all warm.*_ Spike sat up carefully and pulled off his duster - grabbed a blanket from the stack by the couch and draped it over Dawn. Oz padded into the downstairs bathroom, and after a couple of minutes the wolf trotted out. He stood on Spike's legs, bumping his nose into Spike's chest, then Xander's,

_*Pack love you.*_

_*Love you too, wolf.*_ Oz yipped very softly and then curled up on the other side of Dawn, nose on paws. Xander got Spike's boots off then grabbed another blanket and lay down next to Spike - sighed happily when Spike spooned up behind him, holding him close.

_*Love you Oz. Love you, Spike, my Spike. Be all right, huh?*_

_*Love you too pet. It'll be fine.*_


	26. Hurt

Xander woke when Buffy shrieked his name, and he groaned and tried to sit up. Spike seemed dead to the world - fast asleep - and Xander tried to squirm free of his hold.

"Xander! _What_ is going on! Why are you - why is _Dawn_ sleeping with _Spike!_ "

 _*Oh fuck*_ "Buffy -"

"She's not sleeping with me, Slayer, she's sleeping with the wolfling," Spike growled.

_*Spike! Let me go!*_

_*Don't wanna. Warm.*_

_*Well fuck... If you let me go I can make her stop shouting.*_ Spike sighed heavily and let Xander go, and he scrambled out from under the blanket and got up. Spike immediately moved into his spot and pulled the blanket over his head, and Xander surreptitiously kicked him. _*Bastard. I'm still tiiired.*_

 _*Make it go 'way.*_ Spike thought, and Xander ran his hands back through his hair, wincing at tangles. Buffy stood in the doorway of the living room, hands on hips, an outraged expression on her face. Giles stood behind her, a hold-all over his shoulder. They both looked tired and a little sunburned.

"Care to explain, Xander?"

"Maybe keep your voice down, Buffy, Dawn's -"

"Wide awake. Thanks a lot, Buffy." Dawn sat up, scowling, and then smiled when she saw the wolf. She hugged him around the neck and started scratching behind his ears and _*Likes me best,*_ smugly from Oz.

 _*Oh good God.*_ Xander shook his head in disbelief. "Lemme just get in the bathroom real quick and then we'll talk, okay? Maybe have some coffee?" Xander couldn't keep the plaintive note out of his voice and Buffy finally relaxed a little - let the frown subside. Giles shook his head and moved past her, heading for the kitchen.

"Right. Fine. Dawn, go get dressed. You're in your pajamas at two in the afternoon with three _men!_ "

"A wolf, a vampire, and Xander, Buffy. None of them count."

"Oh, thanks for _that_ , Dawn," Xander snapped, stumbling towards the bathroom. _*Two? It's two?*_

"You know what I mean, Xander! Good grief." Dawn jumped up and ran upstairs, slamming her door, and Spike groaned.

"Shut the bloody hell _up_ , people! Creature of the night here, trying to get in a decent kip!"

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy said, and stomped into the kitchen. Xander went in the bathroom - winced away from his reflection in the mirror and washed his face, used the toilet. He found himself zoning out on the mutant fish design on Oz's t-shirt that was on the toilet tank and finally nerved himself to leave. Oz trotted in and began a rapid change, reaching for his clothes.

"I'm supposed to be at the Magic Box," he said, and Xander shrugged.

"Anya'll probably understand." Xander said. Anya had hired herself at the Magic Box as 'Head of Acquisitions' and she frowned upon any other employees not being properly punctual. Oz looked at him.  
"No she won't," they both said simultaneously, and Xander grinned and went into the kitchen. Giles was slumped on a stool at the island, looking half asleep, and Buffy was making coffee. There was a piece of paper in the middle of the island that said, in Willow's precise script: _'Gone to class, back around three-thirty, don't touch the green stuff in the Tupperware!'_ Xander sniggered half-heartedly at that.

"So, care to explain - this?" Buffy asked, gesturing towards the living room with the coffee pot. A little water slopped on the floor and she frowned at it.

"If _you'll_ explain what the hell you were doing last night, attacking Spike."

" _What?_ "

"She did what?"

"Giles! You know I didn't attack Spike last night!" Buffy glared at her Watcher and went to pour the water into the coffee maker.

Giles ran his hand back over his hair and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "Perhaps you'd better explain, Xander?"

Xander climbed up onto a stool of his own and told the story, Oz coming in halfway through and confirming it. When he was done, Buffy and Giles stared at each other.

"Could it - Giles, if I was in a - trance, or something, could I have done some sort of...freaky out-of-body thing?"

"Buffy, I really don't think so." Giles looked baffled, frowning down at the sunflower place mat on the worktop.

"But you - it - whatever, was _real_. I mean - solid. You know?" Xander said, and Oz nodded.

"Real, but - you smelled off."

"I _what?_ "

"This thing - whatever it was - smelled odd. Like...plastic. Or chemicals. It was weird." Oz wrinkled his nose at the scent-memory.

"Yeah. But - it sounded just like you, mostly. And looked just like you. You - it - dusted a couple of vamps, no problem."

Buffy looked from Xander to Giles and then slowly got up and took some cups out of the cabinet. "I don’t like the sound of this," she said, and Giles sighed.

"Nor do I. Perhaps we'd better do some research - see if there's anything about...golems or...simulacrums...something." Buffy poured the coffee and passed mugs out and they drank in silence until Dawn came into the kitchen, dressed and looking irritated.

"So why didn't you come home last night, Buffy? We were all really worried."

"I was in the desert last night, Dawn, talking to the first Slayer. Well, talking _at_ the first Slayer. She just spouted all this mystical cryptic kind of stuff and ignored everything I said."

"But Spike and everybody saw you!"

"It wasn't me." Buffy said, and got up and got a box of cereal out of the cupboard - got a bowl.

"Oh." Dawn stared for a moment then shrugged, obviously happy to let it go. "Well - I called Janice while I was upstairs and she said if I come over right now I can go to the mall with her and her mom. So can I go?" Buffy stared into the 'fridge and Xander saw how tired she looked. How drawn.

 _*She's...so worn out.*_ he thought at Oz, and Oz nodded silently.

"Buffy?"

"Huh? Oh - yeah, sure. Mall. Back before dark, okay?"

"Thanks," Dawn said, smiling for the first time, and darted out of the kitchen to the front door. It slammed behind her and a loud groan came from the living room. A moment later Spike shuffled in, the blanket around his shoulders and his eyes squinted half shut. He had his flask in his hand and he opened it and poured a huge measure of whiskey into Xander's coffee - picked up the cup and drained it.

"Christ, do you people never shut up?" He leaned heavily on Xander, eyes closed, and Oz smirked into his cup. Giles did the glasses-polishing thing, which Xander had decided was an attempt to pretend he couldn't see what was right in front of him. Buffy just stared.

"Spike, is that _eye-liner?_ "

Xander suppressed a laugh. "Poor vampire. You wanna go down the basement?" Xander moved Spike between his thighs and pulled him close, arms under the blanket.

"Damp down there." Spike nuzzled his face into Xander's neck, kissing, and Buffy rolled her eyes, pouring milk into her bowl.

"You guys are worse than Willow and Tara. And _way_ worse than Oz and Derio."

"You haven't seen those two backstage at the Bronze," Xander said, and Buffy held up her hand.

"And I don't want to. Single girl here, don't need to be hit over the head with it." There was a small silence after that and Xander felt a little guilty.

_*Not your fault, pet.*_

"Buffy, I -"

"Xander, please. Don't... Just don't, okay? I'm - fine." She concentrated on pouring out some cereal, and Giles looked sadly at her for a moment before climbing wearily to his feet.

"I really must get home and get cleaned up - get some books. Buffy, you should rest and come down to the Magic Box after closing, see if we've found anything."

"Can I bum a ride, Giles? I’m supposed to be at the shop," Oz said, and Giles nodded.

"Of course, Oz. Gladly. We'll see all of you later." They left, and Buffy stirred her spoon around and around in the cereal then sighed and put the spoon down - leaned her head on her hands.

"So - what did the first Slayer tell you, Buffy? Anything - good?" Xander was slowly working his hands in under Spike's t-shirt.

"Huh." Buffy sat up, making a face. "Mostly just with the mumbo-jumbo. And then she told me..." Buffy trailed off and Spike shifted a little - sighed into Xander's neck.

"What'd she say, Slayer?"

"She said...death is my gift. What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? I mean, it can't be that I'm the Slayer, 'cause, news flash! I already know that. Stupid mystical guides. Never any help when you really need 'em." Buffy looked down at her bowl - grimaced and got up and dumped her untouched breakfast into the sink. "I need to get a shower and change. I guess - you guys can hang out here until it's dark." She started to walk out of the kitchen - paused at the door. "Thanks for taking care of Dawn, guys. And - I - I wouldn't try to kill Spike, Xander. Not anymore." Buffy's gaze was tired - earnest - so lonely, and Xander smiled gently at her.

"Sure Buff. I know. We know. We'll figure this out. No sweat."

"Yeah." Buffy smiled wanly at him and went away upstairs, and Spike finally lifted his head from Xander's shoulder and looked at him.

_*Love you love you.*_

"Yeah. Let's go get a couple more hours, huh?" Spike smiled at him.

"Brilliant."

 

By sunset, Spike was more then ready to go patrolling, and he, Xander and Buffy headed towards Sunnydale Memorial in the hopes of finding the _other_ Buffy. Once again the cemetery was eerily deserted, and their Buffy finally gave up in frustration.

"I'm gonna head over to the Magic Box, guys, see if Giles has come up with anything."

"Okay Buffy. We'll do one more round, see you there."

"Sure, Xander." Buffy strode off, and Spike sat down on a tombstone, his hands in the pockets of his duster.

"What a bloody boring night."

"Hey, no killing, running, screaming, or bleeding. Pretty good night to me." Xander leaned into Spike and started to kiss his neck, alternating with little bites. "And it's gonna get better," Xander murmured. Spike shivered, taking in a sharp breath and bringing his hands up, pulling Xander closer. Just sinking into the kiss. Warm, wet, tasting of gas-station lemonade and cheap, sweet chocolate. Something rustled in the grass behind him and Spike pulled away - started to turn. A fist rocked his head sideways and Spike snarled, leaping up and pushing Xander back.

 _*Enemy!*_ Xander stumbled a step and then went into a fight stance and Spike spun and went for the creature behind him.

 _*Glory's little trolls!*_ from Xander, and Spike focused long enough to see their brown robes and scabby, squinty little faces. Then he was fighting; a whirling, kicking dance that was second nature. But there were dozens, as well as some vamps and an assorted demon or two. Glory's recruits. Spike felt a chill come over him - this was _wrong_ , it felt all wrong. Xander was holding his own, but they didn't seem to be attacking so much as -.

 _*Ambush, pet. Too many. Let's -*_ And then the other Buffy was there and suddenly Spike was fighting for his freedom if not his life as the other Buffy rained blows down on him and two other vamps and a handful of the little troll-acolytes jumped him at once. Too _many_ , throwing a rope around his neck, one lucky shot around a wrist, a Nyrn latching onto the tail of his duster and pulling him off balance.

Xander yelled - dove for him. _*Spike! Get out of here, we've gotta -*_ And fell.

 _*Xander! Fuck, **Xander**!*_ The vamp who'd hit Xander threw the branch he'd swung away and Spike _roared_ , having the satisfaction of seeing utter terror cross the vamp's face as he tried to lunge for him. But there were too many, too much weight, and the rope on his throat was pulling him down, and then another on the other wrist and suddenly he was on his knees - on his back - and the other Buffy swung her fist once, twice - 

_*Third time's the charm*_ , muzzily, and everything went black.

 

Xander tasted...blood. And grass. And his head throbbed, like a dull-bladed knife that stabbed deep with every heartbeat. He tried to lift his head - groaned, and felt something on his back - on his neck.

_*Spike! What-*_

_*Pack. Safe.*_ It was Oz, warm hands gentle on his shoulders - helping him roll over - and Xander groaned again. The streetlight he could see from his position seemed unnaturally bright and made a sharp spike of pain jab into his eyeballs. He closed his eyes tight.

 _*Spike!*_ "Oz - fuck - where's Spike? It was Glory's goons..."

"He's not here, Xander. I can't - feel him. Can you -?" Xander lay very still - reached out in the link, searching. Another stabbing pain made him gasp sharply and stop altogether.

"Damnit, my head, it's...it's messing with the link, I can't - push out very far. Oz - they got Spike, they - there were a bunch of 'em and - some vamps - and that other Buffy -"

"What? The other Buffy?" Buffy's voice and Xander let his eyes come open a tiny bit - saw her and Oz, blurry figures hovering over him.

"Yeah, she - they _wanted_ him, they weren't trying to kill us, they - fuck, help me, Oz." Xander held out his hands and Oz took them - eased him upright. Xander's head seemed to _explode_ with pain, and his stomach roiled - lurched - and he leaned to one side and was sick, clutching his head and gasping for breath afterwards.

"He's got a concussion, he's gotta get to the hospital -" Buffy's voice again, and Xander spat and spat - sat gingerly upright.

"No, Buffy - we gotta find Spike. I dunno why they took him but it can't be good. And I can't - he's _alive_ but I can't - reach him. We've gotta go - get him." His stomach lurched again and he clamped his teeth shut.

"Xander -"

"Please Buffy - I'll be okay."

 _*Sick*_ from Oz, but he felt the werewolf's hands under his arms, gently lifting him to his feet. Xander struggled upright, gritting his teeth against the pain and the nausea. Buffy was on his other side in a moment, and he stood swaying between them.

"Let's get to the Magic Box, get you some aspirin at least - something. See what Giles says. He _is_ the in-house expert on head trauma."

Xander swallowed - opened his eyes all the way, finally, and took a deep breath - tried a weak smile in Buffy's direction. "Okay. We'll do that. If it - stops hurting so much I know I can - hear him."

 _*Heard you. Came fast.*_ Oz was looking a bit shaky and Xander put his arm over the shorter man's shoulders, leaning on him a bit.

"Thanks Oz." Oz just nodded and they walked slowly out of the cemetery.

 

 _*Xander! Fuck - pet - **answer** me! Wolf - wolfling!*_ Spike struggled, cursing, but the chains around his wrists were spelled - weren't ordinary - because he couldn't break them. He could _feel_ Xander - knew he wasn't dead. But he couldn’t hear him. Nothing. And Oz - Oz wasn't that strong, in the link, and probably he wouldn't have been able to hear him, anyway. Spike's throat was on fire - the damn rope had been pulled punishingly tight - and it felt like a couple of ribs were badly bruised, maybe broken.

 _*Little bastards got in some licks while I was down. They'll regret that.*_ He twisted in the chains, looking around him. He was in a posh flat; huge, with heavy draperies, plush sofas and chairs. Clothing, cosmetics, candy boxes and knick-knacks were strewn all over the place, and there was one of the little acolytes - bloody and grinning - hovering in a doorway.

"Ah. You're awake. Now you shall meet Glorificus!" The acolyte scuttled away and Spike wrenched at the chains again - hissed in anger and pain as his sore ribs protested and the chains didn't budge. There was a noise - something hitting a wall? - and the acolyte stumbled back in, more demons coming behind it and - _her_. Blonde, skinny, haughty; wearing a bored expression and a shimmery red dress. Spike revved up some mental gears and smirked at her.

"If it isn't Glory, goddess of - wait. Goddess of nothing much, right?"

" _What_ is this?" Glory asked, staring at Spike.

One of the acolytes bowed low, spreading its hands wide. "Oh, your most magnificent Magnificence! It's the Key!"

Glory stared at the demon and a frown slowly screwed up her features. "The _Key_. _My_ Key? You're telling me this is the _Key_."

"Oh yes, your Deliciousness! We -"

"It's not the Key." Spike jerked ever so slightly in startlement as a dark-haired boy stepped out of the room behind Glory. He was pale and broad, and the other Buffy trailed behind him. He shot Spike a look of loathing and turned to Glory.

"It's not the Key. It's a vampire. It hangs with the Slayer and her gang." Glory looked at the boy - reached out and dug her fingers into his hair, yanking him over so she could talk right into his ear.

"And what do I want with a _vampire_ , Warren! I just want. My. _Key!_ " She shouted the last, and Warren flinched and cringed, trying to pull away.

"Hey, hey! I told them to get it because it _is_ a vampire! Just a soulless, inhuman monster! Do you really think it'd be _loyal_ to the _Slayer?_ " Glory stared at Spike, and he resisted the urge to laugh at her.

_*And what's with this 'it' business? Boy's got a problem….*_

"Oooh. Good thinking, Warren." Glory let him go - pushed him - and he slammed back into the wall, paler then before. He caught himself and straightened - brushed his shirt down and shot a glare at Spike. Glory walked up closer - walked around Spike once, and he felt her nails on the back of his neck - felt them dig in and tear _down_ , opening his shirt and his skin in five blazing lines of pain that only stopped at his jeans.

"Ow! Stupid bint! Leave off!" Glory came around in front of him - idly licked one bloody nail.

"Hmmmm...you taste funny." Glory looked at him - reached up and did the same thing in the front, shredding his shirt and opening his chest and stomach. Spike reacted on pure instinct. His hands knotted in the chains, his legs came up and he _kicked_ , both feet, as hard as he could.

Glory stumbled back, looking stunned and then furious. "Hey! You don't kick me, you stupid vampire! Those boots are _muddy_!" and she punched, right into his ribs. He _felt_ those go for sure, breaking like sticks, and he yelled in pain. "And this is a _Versace!_ " Another punch, the other side, and more ribs gone. Spike groaned, coughed - spat, and foamy blood spattered across Glory's dress.

"It's a fuckin' _rag_ now, you cunt." Glory looked down in disgust at her stained dress and then back up at Spike. She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled it down, so they were inches apart.

"You're really, _really_ gonna wish you hadn't done that, vampire." She stared at him - let one hand trail down his chest, digging a little at the deep scratches there. Spike hissed at her, and Glory blinked. "Nothing to see out here... I wonder if there's something interesting inside?" She grinned and dug her nails in, and Spike felt the blood running down his belly and under his jeans.

 _*Fuck fuck **fuck** this is gonna be bad. At least Xander can't feel this...please don't be able to feel this...*_ It took _far_ too long before the blackness came back.

 

 _*Oooh God it hurts...hurts...please please...help me...*_ Xander writhed on the couch in the back of the shop, barely aware of Oz's hands on him, holding him down. His head was splitting, and the nausea wouldn't go, and now the link flared and burned with agony. He tried to shield Oz, tried to shut the link down without losing touch with Spike altogether, but the pain was making it hard to think straight and Oz's hands were trembling. There was a white-hot sort of _crunch_ through the link and then nothing at all, and Xander went limp.

 _*Out, he's out...not gone...Spike? No, just...*_ He carefully opened his eyes - shut them again hard at the dazzle of light from the overhead fixtures. "Oh - _ow_ \- God -"

"Is it Spike? Is something happening?" Giles, his voice sounding strained.

"Yeah, it's -" Oz stopped and rested his head on Xander's shoulder for a moment. _*You there?*_

_*Here...Spike?*_

"Glory is - was - torturing Spike," Oz said, and his voice was hoarse. "Xander can...feel it and...I can feel _him_...." Another pause and then Oz drew away slowly.

Xander grabbed blindly at him, catching the werewolf's hand in his and clinging tight. _*Don't leave! I'm... Oz, I...can't….*_

 _*Pack... Won't leave.*_ Oz squeezed back, his hand warm and solid in Xander's grip, and Xander relaxed just a little. His head was so muzzy - still ringing from the blow, and from the overload of pain. _Why_ couldn't he talk to Spike?

"Oz? Why can't I...I can't talk to Spike, why - is it that...that Toth again? I'm..." He felt the couch move as someone sat on the edge.

"Xander - can you open your eyes? I need to look at your eyes." Giles again, and Xander cracked his lids open the tiniest bit - shut them immediately.

"Hurts, Giles. Too bright."

"Oh - wait. Anya? Would you turn off the lights back here please?" Oz shifted - it felt like he was crouching down at the head of the couch, and Xander felt his own fingers tighten in panic.

_*Don't! Oz!*_

_*Here, I'm here, safe.*_

_*Harris, get a grip! Gotta stay cool. Let me...*_

"Xander, open your eyes now - the light is off."

Xander took a deep breath and slowly opened them. He blinked a few times and his eyes gradually focused. Giles was next to him on the edge of the couch, and Oz hunched over near his head, just out of sight. The light from the front of the shop was enough to illuminate them and Giles had a small penlight in his hand.

"I need to look at your eyes, Xander," he said, clicking it on.

Even pointing away from him it was too bright and Xander flinched. "No - don't Giles, don't! It hurts..." Xander struggled against the vertigo that threatened to make him throw up again. _*Can't do this...oh, fuck...*_

 _*Just let **me** do it. Harris - **let** me...*_ The soldier, dead calm and collected. Able to think past the pain and Xander just let go and let the soldier take over.

_*Oz, listen, he'll know - he can do it...*_

"We need something for the pain, Watcher. Something strong."

"What? We? I don't -"

"It's the soldier, Giles. Just - listen to him." Oz's hand a warm weight, and Xander let that hold him there, floating in the red-shot darkness. The concussion was like a jackhammer in his skull, and the back of his head, where he'd been hit felt swollen to twice normal size.

"What do you mean? They're not - separate..."

"Sometimes we are. Just _help_ us. We only need it for a little while. If we can use the link right we'll be able to find him easy. We just need -"

"No! I can't just dose you with any sort of - of drug, Xander! That could be _fatal_ , in your condition. You have to...to rest and Oz -"

"I can't find him, Giles. I’m not strong enough." Oz sounded - so sad, and Xander squeezed his hand hard.

_* Oz, it's all right, don't -*_

_*I know. Love you.*_

*What if she...if she does that mind-thing, **fuck** -* Xander felt his heart pounding and the soldier moved restlessly in him - pushing for control.

_*No time for histrionic, Harris! We need logical steps, here. We need to think clearly.*_

He was icy calm - very quiet - and Xander took a deep breath, and then another. Forced himself to relax.

 

"I know the situation is - is bad, Xander, but you must - " Giles stopped and patted his hand. "You must try to stay calm, and let us do what we can. We won't let him die."

"No. We won't. But you have to give us something. We can't function like this. Wolf, help me." Xander, or the soldier - he wasn't even sure now - tried to sit up. Sent the impulse through the link and he felt Oz's hands under his shoulders, very slowly pushing him. As his head got higher then his stomach the nausea swelled up alarmingly and Xander gagged and swallowed several times, trying to force it back.

"Giles, he's gonna be sick, get a -"

"Here, this -" Giles snatched something from the floor and held it up and Xander forced himself upright - leaned forward and frantically grabbed the trash-can Giles was holding, leaning over it. His stomach spasmed and sent up bile, and then nothing at all as he dry-heaved.

 _*Better out than in,*_ the soldier muttered, and he moved, dislodging Giles from his perch so Xander could get his feet on the floor. Oz sat next to him, arm over his shoulders, and Xander leaned into him just a bit, taking comfort from the quiet pack that Oz constantly sent. Giles crouched helplessly on the other side, face slightly averted.

_*Oh god this is...just...I can't.*_

_*I **can**! Let me, Harris!*_ Xander wavered but finally gave way - retreated into that odd, still darkness that had taken him when the soldier first appeared. He'd watched the soldier shoot the transformed trick-or-treaters from that darkness. Watched him take down demons on patrol, sometimes. If he said he could do it, said he could function through the pain, then he could. Xander wondered just how much crazier he could get. The soldier lifted his head - looked squarely at Giles who seemed to see the difference and pulled back, just a little.

"We _have_ to have something, Watcher. There's no other way. We're the only ones who can find him. Harris can't take much more of this."

Giles looked at him for a long moment and Xander hoped, rather distantly, that the man could just take this in stride; treat it like just another Hellmouth oddity and _help_ him - them. Giles sighed, finally, and lowered his head, and Xander knew they'd won. "I - I don't like this, Xander. But - I don’t see any other choice. Willow and Tara already tried a locator spell and Glory's - aura, or wards - something - disrupted it. We didn't get anything at all."

_*He's not dead, doesn't mean he's dead, **fuck** this damn headache -*_

_*Safe, pack safe, calm.*_ Oz squeezed his shoulders a little, willing him to calm down.

 _*He's fine, Harris. We can still feel him - just concentrate. Soon as we get the pain under control, you'll see.*_ "Appreciated, Watcher. We - Xander can find him, if we knock the pain out. This will _work_. We're not human, Watcher. _Giles_. Not anymore. Not...completely. It won't hurt us as much as you think. She's asking about the key, Giles." Giles looked at him, his expression strained and sad, and Oz's arm over Xander's shoulders tightened for a moment.

"None of us are just plain...normal anymore, Giles. It'll be okay," Oz said softly, and Giles straightened slowly from his crouching position.

"You're right, Oz. You - _we_ \- are not. I'll... I'll go and get Tara and get started. It'll take a little time. Xander should try to rest. Just don't let him go to sleep."

"Sure, Giles." Giles walked away, slowly at first and then more briskly, his head coming up determinedly as he visibly set his misgivings aside, and Xander sighed in relief.

_*You rest, Harris. I'll keep watch. We'll have him back before dawn.*_

_*Yeah. Ok. Oz...thanks.*_ Oz just hugged him a little closer, scent of almonds and wolf, and Xander let himself drift. _*Back before dawn.*_

 

Spike's second coming-to wasn't nearly so nice. The broken ribs grated, and one eye was swollen, his lips split. He thought maybe even his jaw might be cracked, and the ear-drum on the left felt as if it had burst - it hurt with a steady, piercing pain, and sound was muffled on that side. His wrists were raw - one felt broken or dislocated - and he felt the blood down his chest and belly, soaking his jeans. He didn't really want to see what she'd done - glanced down, anyway, to make sure nothing was...exposed. Blood, and the white glint of bone, but -.

 _*Bloody hell. Gotta learn to keep my mouth shut. At least my innards aren't strung across the room.*_ Spike intentionally kept still - reached out with the link, feeling for Xander. After a long moment, Xander was suddenly _there_ , his presence a swelling wave of warmth and comfort.

 _*Xander! Hear me? Love, can you hear me?*_ Nothing coherent came back, just the steady _*sun warm life*_ that meant he was alive. It seemed to - flicker - for a moment, and then was steady again.

 _*Okay. He can hear me, I bet, but can't answer. Took a damn hard hit to the head, maybe he's just - woozy, or something. Gotta - gotta tell him where I am - show him, somehow -*_ Spike carefully opened his eyes to slits so he could covertly study the room. He sent the images as clearly as he could - the acolytes milling around; a few cleaning, the others looking through books. That Warren bloke sitting sullenly at a desk, a miniature tool-set spread out before him. And the other Buffy, who was bolt upright in a straight-backed chair, her shirt unbuttoned and a lacy black bra exposed. As Spike watched, Warren reached out and did - something - to the other Buffy's midsection. It swung _open_ and Spike saw wires - cables - _parts_.

 _*A fucking **robot**? What the hell! Oh, fuck.*_ He'd involuntarily made some noise, and one of the acolytes had heard - had got up from scrubbing at a stain on the carpet and scurried into the other room. Spike sighed - winced - and then noticed a curtain was drawn partially back. He stared out the window, trying to see something, _anything_ , that would help Xander find him. He could see - _there_ \- the ruins of the old high-school. Just part of them. It looked like maybe the very back part of the old campus. Spike stared harder, frantically sending image and observation as clearly and quickly as he could, feeling that little flicker in the _Xander_ -ness that he was sure meant Xander was hearing him.

"So, back among the living, are we? Well - in a manner of speaking." Glory was suddenly there, in a new dress, her hair combed and her make-up freshened. She smiled at Spike and reached out - patted his head. "Now listen up, vampire. If you be real, _real_ good, we're gonna give you a treat. Warren says he knows _just_ what you want to give up the Key to me." Warren had gotten up and was standing behind Glory, a weird little smile on his face.

"Warren says _you've_ got a little problem - he says you can't _bite_ people any more." Spike stared at her - choked back his first incredulous instinct to laugh and instead scowled, looking angrily at Warren.

"What does that little bastard know about it?" he spat, and Warren smirked.

"Oh, I know more than most people think. I know all about the Initiative and their little - experiments. I even got a hold of another vamp they implanted. I dug out the chip and figured out how it worked. _And_ I figured out how to modify it - or turn it off."

Spike struggled to make his expression believable - he could smell _arousal_ coming off this Warren, and he had a pretty good idea what sort of modifications the little bastard had tried.

 _*How can he not know...? Fuck it. Idiot.*_ "What - what happened to that other vamp, then?" Spike asked, making his voice sound hopeful and sneering at once, and Warren smiled.

"Oh, getting the chip out kind of - messed up its head. I used it to test my - work - and then I had to dust it. It was insane." He smirked again, and a fresh wave of pheromones bombarded Spike.

"Fuck that -"

"Now, just hold on. The modifications _worked_. And so did turning it off. I can do the same to _your_ chip without taking it out. All you have to do -"

"All _you_ have to do is tell me where my Key is, and Warren here fixes you right up." Glory was smiling perkily at him and Warren was smirking, and Spike knew for a _fact_ that if he still had the chip in his head, old Warren would have done something to it, but not turned it off. He stared at the both of them - let himself smile. Pushed it all through the link; any little thing might help.

"Okay - you got me. Fucking chip. I'd do _anything_ to get rid of it - get it turned off, whatever. Anything. You let me down, huh? Let me down and get me some blood and I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Promise." Spike looked anxiously back and forth between them and silently vowed to take this Warren kid _out_ , first chance he got. He was creepy.

"Oh, no - that's not how it works. First you tell, then he fixes, then you get loose. Right, Warren?"

"Exactly right, my queen." Warren murmured silkily, and Glory preened.

"That's a load 'a bollocks, that is! How do I know you'll do anything at all? You let me down - my fuckin' arms are killin' me! You let me down and I'll tell you everything. Fuckin' Slayer - what do I care about her and her stupid Key?"

"No - that's not the deal." Glory stepped up close to Spike - put her fingers lightly on Spike's temples. He snarled silently at her, and she grinned.

"Jinx! Are you sure I can't eat a vampire?"

"Oh yes, your most high Altitudinousness. You really can't," twittered one of the acolytes.

"But I've never _tried_ ," Glory said, and pushed a little with her fingertips. Warren was frowning. 

_*Fuck - is this that mind-suck thing? Can't do it to a vampire why? Oh shit -*_

"Maybe that isn't the best idea -" Warren started to say, and then Glory really _pushed_ and the pain was incandescent - blinding - a hundred times worse then the chip had ever been and Spike felt his throat tearing as he screamed.

 

"Oh - _noo! Oz!_ " Xander pushed his fists _hard_ into his temples as a jolt of agony blazed through him from the link. Xander felt his knees buckling - felt Oz's hands grabbing at his arms, holding him upright. As soon as it had started it was over, and then the link was quiet, just that faint pulse of Spike - _*olderthan chaos malice love*_ , the same thing he'd felt in the aftermath of the SuperSlayer spell.

"Xander?" Oz's voice was shaky - he'd felt that too, even though Xander had tried hard to keep it out of the link. Even the soldier was momentarily jolted by the intensity of that pain, and Xander took up the slack.

"Fuck - she did something - we've got to get _going_." Xander leaned on the display counter, trying to ignore Willow and Tara's fussing. From Oz there was carefully restrained fury and terror, and the werewolf's hands shook where they rested on Xander's shoulders.

_*Spike, Spike, oh God, oh **please** be all right, Spike, love you -*_

_*No **time** for this, Harris! He gave us what he could - gave us a good look out the window - we've got to **use** it now.*_ Back in command, and Xander straightened under the soldiers whip-crack voice - strode over to the table where Giles was spreading out a map of Sunnydale. He'd had a mouthful of vile-tasting tea - some concoction of Giles and Tara's - and the pain had receded to a low throbbing. But his heart was pounding like a trip-hammer, he was sweating and shaking, and he knew he couldn't hit a barn with an elephant or write his own name legibly just now.

 _*Wonder what they gave me. Christ...*_ The edges of things were vibrating and he thought his head might just float off his shoulders. But the pain was gone, and Spike was alive, and he could find him now. He _knew_ he could. He took a deep breath - leaned over the map and let the soldier take over again.

_*Spike - we're coming.*_

"Right. He showed us the view out the window. We could see a section of the old high-school - this part here." Xander-soldier pointed, and Giles nodded. "We could only see a very _small_ section, however, and the angle was very high - at least six stories. So - she has to be here, somewhere." Xander fanned his hand over a pricey, residential section of Sunnydale, and Anya pushed in next to him, looking at the map.

"Oh! I'll bet she's right here -" Anya put her finger on the map and tapped. "This building is at least that tall. It's also _very_ pricey. I was looking at a two bedroom there, but it was out of my price range - for now."

"What's the name of the place, Anya?" Buffy asked, and Xander rubbed at his chest, wishing his heart wasn't pounding so hard. It was hard to hear.

"It's called Parkview Place. _Not_ very original, but it _does_ have a pool and -"

"Right, okay. So we know where to look. That's great." The soldier cut in brusquely and Anya frowned a little. "Oz - we need the van. Spike's hurt, we'll need to be able to lay him down. Take Giles' keys and get your van and get it back here. Giles can collect his car later. And he's gonna need blood. Willow, can you give us the phone? You and Tara are going to go to Willy's for us, get him a bunch of blood. Anya - show us what the building looks like inside - where the front doors are, where the elevators and stairs are, is there a guard or a doorman, whatever you can remember. Thanks, Willow." Xander took the phone - looked at the faces that were staring at him in varying degrees of astonishment (Buffy and the witches) satisfaction (Giles and Anya) and pride (Oz).

"C'mon people, move! We're on a deadline!" Everyone stared a moment longer and then they _moved_ , and Xander - the soldier - grinned humorlessly as he dialed Willy's bar.

"What do I do, Xander?" Buffy asked, softly, and Xander smiled a warmer smile at her.

"We need weapons, Buffy, and a First-Aid kit. It's gonna be us, you and Giles. Oz has his own weapons." Oz, who was striding past with Giles' keys in his hand stopped - pivoted on his heel - and came back to Xander. He leaned in and gave him a fast, hard kiss and then was gone, sprinting out the door, _*love you love Spike fast **pack** *_ in his wake. Xander closed his eyes for a moment _*love you love you*_ and then lifted the phone to his ear. The soldier hovered, waiting to jump out again when he was needed.

"Willy! This is Xander. You know me... Right, _Spike's_ Xander. Yeah. I need a favor from you…."

 _*Third time's the charm...oh wait...deja vu...*_ Spike could tell he was lying down now - lying on something rather hard - _*floor? No - table*_ and his arms were being held down. He slowly opened his eyes - stared straight into Warren's smirking face. He looked left, then right. Vamp on the left, gripping his bicep hard enough to bruise. _*That's the bastard that done for Xander. Gonna get him.*_ Acolyte on the right, holding a little more gingerly. As if afraid it'd _*hah*_ hurt him. His head was utter agony - as if his skull was filled with razor-sharp rocks, and his right leg felt like it was on fire. He hissed in pain as Warren bumped it.

"Oh - yeah. You had a little - I dunno - seizure when she did that. Guess they were a little over-zealous when they restrained you. You've been out a _while_." Warren grinned, and fiddled with something - a bulky hand-held device. Spike looked at it with what he hoped was interest. He was on a coffee table, he realized.

"That gonna - fix me up?" he rasped. His voice was gone - his throat felt like he'd swallowed ground glass. _*Xander...still here...love you, pet, please hurry...*_

 _*On our way, on our way, almost there Spike **hang on**!*_ Xander, back in the link finally, thank _fuck_ , and on his way. The relief was dizzying, and Spike started planning how to get the hell _out_ of there. He didn't want Xander or Oz anywhere near Glory.

"Ooooh yeah, fix you right up." Warren said, and started pushing buttons. The thing gave off a low hum, and after a few minutes Warren tossed it aside, seemingly satisfied. He had something else in his hand, though - a smaller device that he held and stroked in such a way that made Spike want to rip his head right off.

"Now you're all - good to go. Shall we try it out?" Warren held up the device - pressed a button. Spike had been waiting for this. As soon as he did Spike _moved_ , sitting up so fast he tumbled the acolyte to the floor and dragged the vamp halfway across his lap. The vamp squeaked, startled, and Warren recoiled, tripping over his feet and falling on his butt. The pain in Spike's head flared to incandescence and he hung grimly onto consciousness, his vision going black and then clearing unevenly, full of spots.

"Hey! That's - that's not supposed to - oh _fuck_."

" _Oh fuck_ is right, you wanker. And _you_ -" Spike glared down at the vamp that was writhing in his grip. "You hurt Xander. So now - you're gonna pay." Spike changed - lunged - and drank the vamp down. The blood was cool and a little thick but it crackled with magical energy and he felt it roar through him like a train; healing minor injuries, dialing the pain of broken bones and his headache down to acceptable levels. Drained, the vamp abruptly went to dust and Spike flung himself off the table at Warren, catching the boy's ankles and yanking him backwards furiously.

"C'mon, fucker, I need another snack."

"Warren!" It was the Buffy robot, running towards them, and Spike hesitated one moment and then rolled aside, letting Warren go and narrowly missing being kicked in the head. The 'bot launched another attack and he scrabbled away - got between sofa and coffee table and levered himself to his feet. His broken leg wouldn't hold him and he staggered badly - took a hard blow to the ribs and howled in agony and fury.

" _Fuck_ am I tired of being hurt today!" He picked up a table-lamp and swung it with all his might - connected sharply with the 'bot's head. She stumbled - blinked at him - and tiny blue lightning began to flicker over her.

"Wa-ar-arrrren," the bot slurred, jerking, and Spike stumbled away from it - was brought up short by Glory.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't our little traitor. Where the _hell_ do you think you're going, vampire?"

_* **Gods damnit**!. Just gotta wait - pet, you close?*_

_*Close, close -*_

_* **Here**!*_ from Oz, and Spike almost laughed, despite the grinding of bones in his chest - the slick-sticky blood that was gluing the rags of his t-shirt to his skin.

"I'm going _home_ , you daft cow. I haven't had that chip in my head for _months_ , and your boy should have known that if he's half as smart as he thinks he is." Spike looked Glory up and down, letting a sneer curl his lip. "And to think we've all been so bloody _worried_ about you. Fucking brain-dead fashion victim is what you are. Get your lopsided arse and your Lee Press-Ons out of' my fucking way."

Glory's eyes were wide as saucers and she surreptitiously ran her hands over her butt, checking it. Then fury sparked in her eyes, and Spike braced himself.

_*Here it fuckin' comes - gonna hurt -*_

_*Spike! We're here, hold on!*_

_* **Xander** \- pet, thank gods - !*_

And then Glory _kicked_ him, and he flew backwards, plowing into the door to the hall and crashing out in a hail of splinters and bits of laminate. He thumped painfully into the elevator doors and lay there for a moment, stunned.

_*Xander! Comin' down -*_

_*Inside - we've got you - another minute!*_

_*Pack safe **hurry** *_ from Oz and Spike laughed weakly - a laugh that turned into a cough. It felt like he was coughing splinters and he reached up and slapped at the call button. The acolytes were streaming out of Glory's apartment as the elevator doors opened and Spike fell backwards - dragged himself by his elbows inside and groaned as his broken leg twisted painfully. He hit the lobby button and slumped against the wall, and the last thing he saw was Warren dragging the 'bot by the arm, heading for the fire stairs, and Glory shrieking and shoving acolytes pell-mell.

 

They were half-way up the first flight of steps when they met the acolytes coming down. Giles had a crossbow, Buffy had her fists. Xander had a sword that was a bit dangerous in such a small space, and Oz was halfway to wolf and snarling like a hellhound. It was hard to fight in the cramped quarters of the stairs and when Spike told Xander he was on his way down they fell back gratefully into the lobby, where Xander could swing the sword and not accidentally hit anybody. The tea had worn off enough for him to focus, and he focused _hard_. He methodically swung at two, three, four acolytes, decapitating them neatly. Buffy was holding her own - Giles was getting in hit after hit with the crossbow, as precise and efficient as always. Oz - was creating bloody mayhem, but it felt _good_ , in the link, to let some rage out, and the acolytes were starting to waver. Xander _felt_ Spike behind him - slightly above him - and he turned as the elevator doors opened.

_*Spike, love, oh **fuck** \- safe now safe now*_

_*Safe*_ and Spike slumped sideways, out cold. Xander found Buffy in the melee - yelled to get her attention and tossed the sword to her. She caught it neatly and swung it in a wide arc.

"Get him and get out, Xander! We'll hold them here!" Xander was already folding Spike into his arms - picking him up and cradling him close. He could _feel_ the broken bones shifting, and his arms and chest were damp with blood in minutes.

 _*Oz - let's go, gotta hurry!*_ Oz whirled - snapped - broke out of the mob and bounded across the lobby, shedding the wolf as he went. He opened the door and Xander edged out carefully. At the van, Oz opened the back door and climbed inside - carefully took Spike's shoulders and helped to maneuver the limp form onto the pallet they'd made in the back. Xander pulled the door half shut behind him - crawled up next to Spike and touched the battered face.

"Fuckin' _bitch_. Let's go, Oz." Oz nodded - scrambled out the front door and ran back to the building. A moment later the back door opened again and Buffy climbed in, yanking the 'bot along behind her. Xander stared for a long moment - turned to see Giles and Oz in the front and then the van was moving, speeding away, and Xander felt, finally, that he could breathe. Felt the soldier fade back, flushed with success. Everyone was spattered with blood or some other fluid, and Xander wondered a bit hysterically what they would say if the police stopped them.

"Is - is he okay?" Buffy whispered, and Xander ran his fingers gently through the tangled, bloody hair - touched Spike's cheek.

"He's - here. He'll _be_ okay, once he gets some blood. Fucking bitch. If I could just -" Xander felt his throat closing up - clamped his mouth shut and just leaned there, not daring to touch Spike - _desperate_ to touch him.

_*Oh love you, love you, got you back, **mine** , never let you go, Spike, Spike….*_

_*Be okay,*_ from Oz, and Xander took a deep breath.

"Yeah. He's gonna be - gonna be fine." He leaned down and gently kissed Spike's mouth.

"Ewww. That's gross." Xander's head snapped up, and he glared. The bot was looking at him with a strangely blank expression, and Xander looked over at Buffy, who looked mortified.

"Why'd you grab - it?"

"Just thought; the enemy shouldn't have...me. You know? That guy - whoever - he was trying to get out the service entrance and I was gonna grab him but she - it -" Buffy looked momentarily confused, glancing at the 'bot and then back to Xander. "It attacked. Trying to defend him, I guess. But it's kinda screwed up. I hit it and it fell down and he took off." Buffy looked upset and Xander swallowed his anger - nodded.

"Warren says two men -" Buffy reached over and smacked the 'bot and it made a sizzling sound and shut up.

"Yeah. Good thing you grabbed it. It's better if we - dismantle it or - whatever. That guy - what a creep." Xander had related what Warren? had said to Spike as they'd driven over, and they'd all agreed to grab him if they saw him. But the 'bots creator, it seemed, had escaped, and Xander just hoped his pack could find him out and about one night. He wasn't as important as Spike, though.

_*Fucking sicko.*_

_*Safe now. Pack.*_

"Safe." Xander touched Spike's bloodied cheek - looked up at Giles. "You guys - did really great, back there. I just - " Xander paused to gulp a little more air. The pain-killing effects of the drug were almost all gone now and his heart was thudding slower and slower - his head felt full of cotton-wool. The pain was coming back, too - licks of fire that got a little higher with every _thump thump thump_ , and Xander swallowed heavily and tried not to think about being sick.

"Xander? You okay?" Buffy's face swam out of the gloom, and Xander blinked at her.

_*Xander. Sick?*_

"Yeah, I'm - I'm kinda - oh man, that drug is wearing off fast, Giles. Uuhhh....fuck..." Xander heard a peculiar sort of buzzing in his ears - tried to ignore it but it got louder and louder until it was _drilling_ into his head, and he was clutching his skull and panting - collapsing back onto the pallet next to Spike and desperate to be home. The journey passed in a miserable, nauseating haze, and he was barely aware of Buffy doing what she could with the First-Aid kit.

 _*Home now.*_ Oz's hand on his wrist, on his head - pine and earth and wolf-smell, _*love you*_ coming unbelievably from _Spike_ , and then Xander slipped gratefully into unconsciousness. They'd made it home, and he was content.


	27. Healing

Spike dreamed. Or, he hoped he dreamed. Angelus was there, doing something to Dru and making her scream, and he couldn't get loose - couldn't _get_ to her. And soldiers - _soldiers_ were there, looming over him, discussing... A white-coated doctor pushed through them and nodded, listening to their murmurs and when she turned to face him her features rippled - the Mad Professor, Buffy, Darla. Spike struggled to get free - what the _hell_ was holding him? - and Xander was there, whispering to him. Vampire Xander, with Dru's thin hand in his hair and he felt _cold_ seeing that.

_*No no **no** , why did she do that - when - **Xander**!*_ Oz there too, half wolf and a thick collar around his neck, chain snaking away to _Angelus'_ hand and Spike roared, launching himself at the bastard. Something struck his face - _hurt_ \- and he recoiled, staring. Xander - the real Xander - pale and wild-eyed, holding his shoulders in a crushing grip. His body _ached_ \- his head was splitting, and Spike moaned, writhing.

_*Spike, Spike - you're safe now, Spike - love you - please, you're safe, please calm down, you're safe, safe.*_

_*Home safe pack.*_ Oz on his other side, _his_ Oz, green eyes so tired.

"C'mon Spike - here - drink. You'll get better faster. Please." Xander's arm against his mouth, scent of blood and he _bites_ and drinks and drinks; blood sweet and hot, full of love, of _need_.... He snarls when Xander is wrenched away from him.

"Oz, damnit -"

"You think I'm going to let him hurt you? What the fuck do you think he'd do if I _did_? It's enough, Xander." Oz does something, his eyes flaring black, and then it's _his_ arm, his blood; earth and almonds and Spike drinks that too - falls back on the bed and just breathes - pulling unneeded air into his lungs as the nauseating pain slowly ebbs from his skull.

_*All right love? Spike, please - you all right?*_

_*Hurts...Xander, hurts….*_ Warmth all along his right side - his left - two heartbeats lulling him, and Spike sinks back and the dreams are there, waiting for him.

 

Xander stood by the bed, watching Spike. The vampire turned restlessly, his eyes moving beneath closed lids. His wounds - the broken bones - were healed. There were only a few faint scars to show where Glory had split skin and muscle with sharp nails and punishing blows. Spike could just be asleep, except for the link. Worse than Drusilla's spell, the link roiled with nightmares - with pain - and it was like a lure, like a siren-song. Xander wanted to crawl into the bed beside Spike and hold him, soothe him - sink into the dreams with him until they were both dust, or Spike woke.

"Xander."

But he couldn't. Or, rather - he wasn't _allowed_ \- and for a moment Xander felt a flare of resentment, almost anger. Spike _needed_ him; he should be there with him, in whatever twilight he lingered in. _*Shouldn't be in there alone.*_ Xander wavered - reached out his hand, leaning forward. He could just sit here, on the edge of the bed -

"Xander!" He flinched, startled, and looked over at the door. Oz stood there, watching him. Jerked his head once, summons, and Xander reluctantly pulled back and stepped away from the bed. The link was an _ache_ \- a droning, mind-numbing buzz like a giant hive. The nightmares shot through and through it, crackles of pain and images Xander tried to forget as soon as he saw them.

The first day, he'd tried to block it out - shut the link down - but he'd felt so lost, then. Felt as if he'd deliberately deafened and blinded himself, and he couldn't do it. After that he'd spent - two days? - in bed with Spike. Holding him, and trying to calm him, trying to wake him. Getting blood into him, but not enough. Oz had hauled him out and forced him to eat - made him go outside and sit on the porch in the sun for an hour. _Oz_ almost invisible in the link, closing it down so completely Xander wasn't always sure he was even there. Shutting it down so he could function, so he could force _Xander_ to, and it was taking its toll.

They were both pale - they both had dark shadows under their eyes, and were thinner then they had been. Oz was edgy - twitchy - and except for Xander's name he'd stopped talking altogether. Xander had lost all track of time, had no idea what day it was - just barely knew it was twilight by the low, violet light that glowed around the blinds. He thought it had been a week, since Glory. He felt like he'd been beaten, too. Everything _hurt_ , and he couldn't tell if that was Spike or him, anymore. Couldn't tell if the nightmares where Spike's or his own.

_*God, has to stop, has to **stop** \- Spike, wake up, wake up, wake up...*_

A rumbling growl, full of frustration and pain, and Oz's hand on his arm, wrenching him up from where he'd gone to his knees by the bed. Dragging him out of the room and all but hurling him into a chair in the kitchen. Oz slammed cupboard doors and drawers - put a bowl of soup on the table in front of Xander and a spoon. Xander looked at it and sighed - turned his head away and Oz _snarled_ ; slammed his fist down on the table hard enough to make the spoon jump - to spill a little soup over. His message clear. _Eat_.

Xander wanted to cry, wanted to scream, but he picked up the spoon instead - ate a mouthful. Quick stroke of Oz's fingers through his hair and the werewolf went back to what _he_ did most of the day: pacing. He looked ragged - as ragged as Xander felt - and Xander tried to send some comfort, something. But the link was closed to that too, and Oz just paced, biting his lip. Stalking between Xander and the bedroom because he wasn't letting Xander back in there until the soup was gone. Didn't need words to make _that_ obvious, and Xander bent to the task of eating.

Rustle of pencil on paper and Xander glanced over at Derio, sitting opposite him. He was the only person Xander would let into the house. _*Because Oz needs him.*_ He had a sheaf of papers spread out before him; notes on a song he was writing. He picked his fiddle up out of its case and tuned it for a moment - stroked the bow over the strings and began to play. It was low and slow and soft - it was nearly a lullaby - and it washed over Xander like warm water. It calmed Oz enough for him to sit down finally, one knee pressed tight into Derio's thigh, head bowed.

Xander wondered, fleetingly, how it was Derio _fit_ , so well. At the house every day, playing his fiddle or Oz's guitar. Singing softly in that hoarse voice. Or turning on the radio, helping to cook. Talking for Oz and talking for Xander, even - talking or singing or making a clatter with pots and dishes. Making a cocoon of sound to drown out the pained silence that had fallen over the house. It helped, more than Xander could say.

Xander ate, head bowed. Finished the soup and pushed the bowl away and just lay his head down on the table. He was so _tired_ \- and it wasn't just his body, but his head. Numb and confused and aching for Spike, and he didn't know how much longer he could do this. The fiddle-music washed in and out of him, low and steady as the sea, and Xander drifted.

" _Ey Vato,_ " someone said, soft voice rusty from dis-use, and Xander sat bolt upright, startled out of a half doze. "That's nice."

_*Spike*_

_*Xan love...*_

Xander stood up slowly, feeling like a clock-work toy whose gears had had sand thrown in them. Spike was in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning on the doorjamb. He'd put on his brocade robe and tied it, and he was… _*Thin, love, you're so thin...God, Spike...love you love you*_ Xander finally felt something like mobility return to him and he was across the kitchen floor and his arms around Spike, holding the too-thin body close to him, putting his face into Spike's hair and neck and just breathing, just _feeling_ him. That hideous pain finally gone. Spike hugged him back hard - not as hard as he should be able to, but just to have him there was enough and the rest could be fixed.

Derio was still playing, and Oz was motionless beside him, but he was smiling - blinking hard. Xander kissed Spike's neck and jaw - kissed his mouth, slow and gentle until Spike finally pulled away and looked at him, a little bewildered.

"I'm not gonna break, pet. Why all the -" He touched Xander's cheek, and Xander realized he'd been crying.

"Days, Spike, it's been - I don't even know..." Xander coughed, his voice rough. "You - it's been _days_ since Glory and - and you were -" He couldn't finish that - pulled Spike into another hug, holding him tight. _*Never leave me.*_

"Eight days," quietly, from Derio, and Xander pulled back and sent a quick smile over his shoulder to the other man.

"Eight _days_?" Spike leaned his head on Xander's shoulder, arms loosely around his waist. "No bloody wonder I feel like I could eat half the Bronze." He shifted and looked at Xander again, his eyes anxious. "What happened? Did that bitch catch me again? I thought - we got out..." He trailed off uncertainly and Xander turned them both - tugged at him a little and led him over to the table. Spike sank down into Xander's chair and Xander pulled the last chair over close - sat down as well and put his arm over Spike's shoulders. Spike leaned into him and sighed. Derio let the music fade softly to silence and started putting his fiddle away, looking serious. 

"Real nice, Derio."

"Thanks Spike."

Spike looked over at Oz, who was sitting with his head buried in his hands, his shoulders hunched. "You okay, wolfling?" Oz's head came up and he shot a wild look at Spike - eyes red-rimmed and wet. He was up and around the table in a heartbeat, crouching down beside the chair and putting his hands on Spike's thigh. They were trembling, just a little, and Spike leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

"Jesus, Spike..." Oz whispered, and his voice was a cracked thread of sound.

_*God, Oz, are you back? Oz -*_ And Oz just _there_ in the link, like a light coming on - like something breaking but it wasn't pain, it was the sweet flood that comes with the bite into an apple.

_*Pack pack Spike love you both.*_ He put his head down on Spike's thigh and for a few minutes they all were just silent, the link thick with happiness, contentment - love. Spike ran his fingers gently through and through Oz's hair. Oz wiped his eyes and leaned back, finally - went back to his chair. Derio reached out and took his hand and twined their fingers together, smiling softly.

"Tell me what's been going on, Xander."

"Well - we came and got you - you remember that?" _*Love you love you love you.*_

_*Love you.*_ "Yeah... I was in the elevator and - you were there and the Slayer...wolfling... The Watcher was there?"

"Yup. He's a damn good shot with that crossbow. We got you out. Oz brought the van and we got you here. I - I sent Willow and Tara down to Willy's to get you blood."

Spike goggled at him, and then he laughed a little breathlessly. "You _what?_ Red and - and Tara down to Willy's? Getting _blood?_ "

"Oh yeah," Xander grinned at Spike - at the familiar expression of amusement and love - and his heart felt like it might just pound right out of his chest. "Willy knows about them, you know. You really think he's gonna refuse two powerful witches? Especially when I called him and told him to expect them."

"You're barmy, pet." Spike said, but there was obvious pride in his voice, and he leaned over and kissed Xander for a moment, then snuggled back into him again, sighing happily. _*Love you pet, smart boy, my boy.*_ "So - what? I've been just laying there for a week?"

"You don't remember?" Xander's could feel Spike stiffen under his arm, and he hugged him closer.

"I - I was...having really bad dreams. I thought - it was just the one night. Eight days. I reckon it was that mind-suck thing."

" _What?_ " Xander couldn't help it, he jerked sharply and Spike sat up, frowning a little.

_*Pack safe now,*_ from Oz, even though he looked as disturbed as Xander felt. Derio was frowning, too.

"Mind...oh fuck. She _did_. I - kinda forgot. It hurt so much when she did that I kinda..." Xander shook his head.

"Yeah, she did that - or, she tried to. One of those little goons of hers, it told her she couldn't do that to a vampire but she tried anyway. It fucking hurt. Hurt her too, I guess - I remember her screaming..." Spike shuddered and pushed his hand back through his hair - grimaced at the feel of it, the tangles. "Christ, pet, I need a bath."

Xander laughed - he couldn't help it - and he couldn't help that he sounded a little hysterical, and he couldn't help that he couldn't stop right away. Manny had let him off work, and Oz had stayed home so they could sit what felt like a death-watch over Spike. Derio had been there so much Xander was wondering if he actually _had_ a job. And Oz had stopped talking and Xander had just… _stopped_. And Spike wanted a bath. Suddenly the world was right again - was solidly back on its axis and spinning at the right speed, instead of careening wildly through darkness and cold. Xander hugged Spike hard and kissed him again.

"Course you do. C'mon and have your bath and we'll go and - you can get fed."

Spike looked at him at that, surprise in the link, surprise and puzzlement. _*Love? You know -*_

_*I know. Don't care anymore. Can't be without you, won't leave you for a minute, don't **care** anymore, my Spike, my **vampire** , fucking Big Bad and love you love you love you*_

Spike's robe soaked up tears pretty well, and Derio and Oz found something interesting on the TV. Xander just _sobbed_ \- release of unbearable tensions and fear, and Spike held him hard - whispered to him, kissed his hair and his temples and rocked him slowly, slowly. After that, Xander was ready for a bath, too.

 

They got back in just past midnight, and Xander was feeling - pretty strange. He really _hadn't_ let Spike out of his sight, and he'd never seen Spike hunt before, or feed. And Spike was right - it didn't hurt, and he'd only killed one. Sick old man whose heart couldn't take it and who wanted it, anyway, or so Spike said and so the link said, too. Vampire senses reading illness and despair and Spike the lion in the field, culling. Xander felt….

_*Jealous? You're jealous, pet.*_

_*I'm not! Fuck, I **am** , course I am. You….*_ Xander paused at the front door, looking at Spike who was on the top step of the porch. A Spike who looked as if he hadn't spent a day in bed, much less eight. He was sleek and practically glowing with blood and health and Xander reveled in it. "I didn't realize it was so...intimate, I guess. I thought - _hunt_ \- you know? More 'grrrr' and less..."

"'Allo ducks, wot 'ave we 'ere'?" Spike said, accent like some old movie and Xander grinned for moment.

"Yeah. Better this way. I mean, no trail of bodies or anything but...." _* **Mine** , you're mine, always mine, **only** mine, beautiful, fuckin' beautiful.*_

Spike laughed softly, moving up close to him, slipping his hands around Xander's waist and up under his t-shirt, tugging him close. "Course I am, love. All yours. Wanna claim me? Wanna bite me, love, wanna fuck me and take me and make me scream your name, love? Wanna...?" Spike nibbled along his neck and jaw - reached his mouth and settled in for a long kiss, his tongue strong and cool and demanding - devouring. Blood and lemon drops and cigarettes. His hands pulled Xander close - pressed them together all along their length and held Xander immobile and helpless and Xander was trembling - gasping. 

He clawed Spike's t-shirt free of his jeans and ran his hands up and down Spike's back, relearning and rediscovering the silken skin, the sharp curve of muscle, the ridge of bone. The screen door groaned alarmingly as Xander fell back against it, bringing Spike with him and he didn't care if they woke Oz up, or Derio. Didn't care if the neighbors were watching. He just wanted _in_ , wanted Spike, wanted to prove to himself - to all his selves - that Spike was alive and whole and _his_ , all his.

_*Fuck, Spike, want you, want you, **need** you, Spike - love you oh god Spike never leave me….*_

Spike pulled back half an inch, his eyes golden and gleaming. "Inside," he grated, and Xander clawed at the screen door, fumbled with his key, pushed the door open and glanced around. A lamp was on, but the rest of the house was dark, and as Spike turned the lock Xander saw a piece of paper taped to the TV screen. In Oz's slanting writing it said W/D - with Derio - and Xander grinned.

"Thank bloody gods. Gonna make you scream, pet." Spike flung his duster over the couch - reached out and grabbed Xander's face and dove back into kissing him, walking him backwards. As they walked Xander fought to get their shirts off - finally just shredded them, lust and need making him frantic. In the bedroom Spike pushed him back until he felt the bed against his legs and then abruptly let him go - turned him.

_*Want you want you...*_ Spike undid button and zipper - pushed Xander's jeans down and then did the same to his own. He leaned and wrenched open the bedside table and snatched the lube out. Xander leaned his knees into the bed - put his hands on the mattress and braced himself, panting already, so hard it hurt and pre-come leaking from his cock.

"Hurry, Spike, don't need it -"

"Shhh, love. Almost there..." Spike's hands were cool and deft, the preparation cursory. A moment later he was positioning himself - pushing _in_ with one hard thrust that went to the hilt and Xander didn't so much scream as _howl_ , the hyena roaring to the surface and _wanting_. Wanting proof of life - proof of existence and of _Spike_ ; same old fear, same old pain. Spike knew it was there, lurking, and he knew how to let it out - like drawing a splinter, only he used his body; used his teeth and his nails and his cock to open old wounds and make them bleed - make them heal. 

Xander loved each stinging scratch and throbbing bite because it meant he was _there_ and Spike was and Glory didn't win and the Initiative didn't and his fucking _parents_ didn't.... Spike came too soon for Xander, and they took a minute to wrench off boots and jeans and then Xander was pressing Spike down hard into the mattress - pushing his legs up and leaning in and slamming _in_ , more proof in the arch of Spike's throat and the clutch of his body - in the blood that Xander drew with hard, nipping bites and the growling sounds of pure pleasure that Xander pounded out of him. Letting that week of ache and helplessness spill through the link, letting it _go_ in an overload of scent, touch, taste, feel - Spike was _there_ , and Xander was giddy with it.

In the aftermath Xander felt utterly spent - wrung out and weak as a newborn, but light, too. Like a feather, lying on the bed, anchored by Spike's arms around him - by Spike's mouth on his. _*Love you love you love you*_ whispered with each heartbeat; the link so open they might as well be one person. 

"You think I'm some kind of...? Is it normal, to want somebody this much?" Xander asked, more to himself than Spike.

"Normal for me," Spike said, hand lazily stroking the small of Xander's back.

"Normal 'cause...the demon is like that, or 'cause _you_ are like that?" Xander wiggled around until he could prop his chin on Spike's chest and Spike put his arm behind his head, looking down at Xander.

"Don't know. The demon just _wants_ , and it takes and haves until...until it _doesn't_ want, anymore." _*Always want you.*_ "I - we..." Spike stopped, and Xander could see something in his eyes, flickering. Flash of something, a long-buried memory, and Xander closed his own eyes for a moment - relived a party, and a girl, and a moment of indescribable pain and loss.

"Guess it's me, too," Spike said softly, and Xander reached up and ran gentle fingers over his face.

"So - it's okay, for me to want you this much? 'Cause sometimes..." Xander's turn to be quiet, to _remember_ wanting so much and so desperately. Wanting love and family and somebody to know _him_ , to want _him_. "I mean - seems like...I should be…."

"What, tougher? A manly man who never needs nothin' and nobody?" Spike sounded disgusted - very possibly hurt - and Xander shook his head, looking at him.

"No. Just - I wonder if...."

"What, love?" Spike's fingers combed back through Xander's hair, and Xander nuzzled into that most-loved touch.

"Just - if it's too much, sometimes. I fell apart when that Toth - when I couldn't hear the… _voices_ in my _head_ for God's sake.... Fell apart this week, too. Am I just...too...needy?" _*Too broken.*_

Spike startled Xander by laughing - bouncing his chin off Spike's chest with the force of his mirth.

"Christ, love - I'd chain you to the bed if I could - I'd take you away and lock you in a tower if I had one! Never let you out of my sight. I never spent a day apart from Dru for a hundred years, love, or near enough - that needy enough for you?" Spike turned them suddenly - flipped Xander on his back and held him close - put his forehead to Xander's and kissed his face with tiny, fluttering kisses.

"You can't want me too much Xander - can't need me too much. I'll take everything you've got and beg for more, love. Can't break me with _need_ , love - can't wear me out with _want_. Everything you do - everything you say - it just feeds my addiction, love. Feeds _me_. I only want all of you and everything and what you are forever and a day." _*Not broken. Different. Strong. Perfect match - just what I need, **my** boy, my own, always.*_

Xander just stared up at him, and felt the truth of it through the link; Spike inside him and around him, sweet as honey, soft as down. Felt the truth of it in the touches Spike lay gently on him - in the love that made Spike's eyes like stars. _*Oh God.*_

"Some of it was the link, you know. Making it...worse." Spike gazed down at him, his fingers in Xander's hair and his eyes so serious. _*Better now, love? My poor boy, so tired….*_

"Yeah... I didn't know it'd be so...." Xander stopped - pushed it _away_. He didn't want to dwell on that pain that still echoed, just a little. "So if I tell you that's your lot in life now, to have me on your shoulder at every possible moment, you're not gonna wig, huh?"

"Can you quit your job? Stay home all day?" Xander laughed this time, and then Spike did, and they lay in comfortable silence after that, basking in the nearness of the other - the scent and taste and feel. 

_*Mine, saved you - did it just right.*_

That made Spike lift his head again and look down at Xander, puzzled. "Who's that, then?"

"That's...me, but mostly it's the soldier. He's - feeling better, now. He got to take control for a while there - figured out where you were."

"Knew you could," Spike said, in the link and aloud and the unwavering strength of his belief was heady, heady stuff. Xander reveled in it, even as his breathing slowed, and Spike's eyes fluttered shut, and they slept.

 

Something different, the next day - something…. Spike felt it in Xander's touch - _in_ him, in the link. Belief, maybe. Rest. Xander _knew_ , finally, down in his soul. Knew it was real, and for always. Dru's visit had done most of it. _*Chose me*_ in the link but so soft Spike was sure Xander had never meant for him to hear. _*Can't do without you*_ there as well - such profound relief when he'd stood in the bedroom doorway and Xander had turned to see him.

Spike wasn't hurt by this - didn't mind that it had taken such extreme things - such pain - for Xander to finally let go his deepest fears. It was a _good_ feeling, this. Xander utterly _his_ now in a way that he hadn't quite been before. And this knowledge - not new, just finally, finally _cemented_ \- put a shine in his eyes and a quiet confidence in his movements. Wholly Spike's, now, and wholly his own, and even Oz noticed it, coming in that afternoon from work; watching Xander who was cutting up tomatoes for dinner and singing quietly along with the radio.

"Something's different," Oz said, looking at Spike. Spike nodded - wondered what to say.

_*Knows,*_ Oz thought, conveying more than just that word in the link, and Spike could only look at him - look and smile a little, at the things the wolfling saw.

_*Owe you. You kept him - here.... You were so strong....*_

Oz shook his head, frowning just a little. _*Pack. Always.*_ After a moment Oz smiled back - got up to help and trailed his fingers along Spike's shoulders - bumped Xander a little with his hip, getting out another knife and reaching for his own tomato. Xander grinned over at him, still singing, and Oz joined him a moment later. Spike smoked and watched them and hummed to himself.

_"Money, get back. I'm all right Jack,_   
_Get your hands off my stack._   
_Money, it's a hit._   
_Don't give me that_   
_Do goody good bullshit._   
_I'm in the high-fidelity first-class traveling set_   
_And I think I need a Lear jet...."_

"Talked with Derio last night," Oz said suddenly, and Xander looked over at him, dumped a cut-up tomato into a bowl for salad - Oz's influence, all the veggies. Spike wasn't sure about them, even if it was fun to embarrass Xander in the grocery by making suggestive remarks about cucumbers and squash.

"Yeah?" _*Trouble?*_

"Nah. He was just a little...freaked out. The link - we'd talked about it some, but..." Oz stopped and pondered, and Spike felt a little tension coiling up in him. "This whole week - he was kinda scared. Didn't really understand why -" Oz stopped again, and the link was flooded with a little hurt, a little fear. With images, and Derio's serious face. "Had to tell him - everything. About the Initiative and about... what happened. Us." Oz picked up a piece of tomato and ate it - looked over at Xander and then at Spike, who were both tense.

"And? Christ, wolfling, what?" _*Hurt you? Wolf, love you.*_

_*Love you, Oz. Tell us.*_

Oz smiled a little - a private, a _secret_ sort of smile. Let one tiny image slip through the link, and Spike blinked at the jolt of arousal that hit him - his own, and Xander's, and Oz.

"He's all right. We are. He - understood." _*Knows everything. Love you both.*_

"Thank god." Xander grinned at Oz - nudged him with an elbow, and Oz just ducked his head and grinned down at the tomatoes - reached for a pepper and started chopping it. "Tell him how much he helped, okay, Oz? Tell him I said thanks." Oz nodded, and Xander went back to his vegetables.

The phone rang and Xander and Oz both held up knives and vegetable-smeared hands and Spike grimaced and got up. He _hated_ phones - noisy, intrusive things always interrupting at the _wrong_ sodding moment, always bringing bad news or trouble or some bloody fool _selling_ something and he'd managed to talk Xander out of a cell phone twice.

_*Didn't actually talk. Just distracted him with my mouth until he forgot he wanted one.*_ Spike smirked to himself and picked up the phone as if it were a poisonous snake. "'Lo?" he asked cautiously, and frowned at Anya's rapid, panicky question.

_*Trouble, always trouble.*_ "Nope - sorry. Haven't heard from Glinda all day. Why - _What?_ " All chopping ceased, and Spike felt Xander and Oz _looking_ at him. "Fuck - yeah - right there." He slammed the phone down - shot information through the link rapid-fire as he strode into the bedroom for his boots. _*Glory acolyte, shop, Glory thinks Glinda is the Key - Red and Slayer looking -*_

Xander was right behind him, shoving bare feet into his work-boots and grabbing one of the axes they'd brought home from the shop. "Why would she think _Tara_ -?"

"Who fucking knows? One'a those little trolls of hers is at the shop - Watcher got it to talk but I'll bet it'll talk more." Spike didn't even bother to keep the demon at bay and he snatched his duster and a blanket and all but _ran_ for the door, the others behind him. Late afternoon sunlight slanting blood-red across the yard, almost intolerably bright to demon eyes, and he ran for the DeSoto, blanket in place, not noticing the slight burn he got on his wrist. Xander and Oz crowded into the front seat and he turned the key - engine revving and _Motorhead_ blasting out at them, Lemmy advising him to _'put the bite on the son of a bitch'_ \- a sentiment Spike wholly agreed with but he snapped the stereo off as he reversed out of the driveway.

_*Not the time.*_ Driving, pushing the DeSoto to top speed where he could, the pounding human heartbeats next to him injecting a further note of urgency that made Spike snarl.

"Red and her were gonna do this fair thing, this -"

"Yeah - near the river - west of campus," Oz said, and Spike nodded.

"She went to look." _*Wanna-?*_

_*Drop us, yeah.*_ "You'll -"

"Magic Box." Spike glanced over at Xander - felt a warm hand on his thigh. _*Love you **careful** be careful, damnit, wolfling be **careful**. Glinda....*_

"Yeah," Oz said, _*protect pack,*_ and Spike took a hard right and saw people - booths - _World Culture Fair_ banner and he hit the brakes.

"Right. Go." _*Love you!*_ "Get her and get out!" Quick, hot brush of lips along his cheekbone and they were gone and he was gunning the engine again, making a u-turn and speeding back towards the Magic Box; four minutes and he'd _be_ there.

_*Sick of this, sick of this bitch fuckin' with Xander'ss - with **my** \- family. Better not have killed that little bastard, Watcher, I wanna make it **scream** *_ Through the front windows of the Magic Box, Anya was pacing fretfully, eyeing with loathing the scabby acolyte tied to a chair. The Watcher was leaning on the display counter, looking more Ripper than usual. As Spike pelted in under the blanket they both jumped, and Spike smelled the little jolt of fear from them when they saw his face.

"Spike! Where are -"

"Xander an' the wolf are at the fair-thing, helping Red. They'll find her if she's there. Where's the Slayer? And Niblet?"

"Buffy went to check on campus - Dawn is with Clem." Giles' voice was thick with tension. Spike tossed the blanket down on the lighted table - circled the acolyte who cringed, wild-eyed.

"I serve G-Glorificus and any harm you do to me will be v-v-visited upon you ten-fold!"

"You think?" Spike asked, leaning down into the acolyte's face, baring his fangs. " _I_ think that if she can't actually find enough of you to figure out if you're one of hers or the dog's fuckin' dinner, there won't be much bloody retribution happening. What'd it tell you, Watcher?"

Giles looked at the acolyte, his eyes steely behind his glasses. "Only that Glory thought Tara was the key. Because she's the newest one among us."

"Huh. That's not much." Spike took his duster off and folded it - draped it carefully over a chair-back. Making a bit of a show. He looked around the room - flexed his hands, making the knuckles crack. "Be a shame to get - bits - all over the things in here. And - blood's hard to get out, no matter what you do. Wha'dya think, Watcher?"

"I think I have a spell. A variant on a containment spell. Should work a treat."

The acolyte looked wildly from Spike to Giles and back - looked at Anya, who was all cool interest. "You will l-learn nothing! Glorificus -"

Spike backhanded him, and the acolyte had blood down its chin - tongue bitten badly. "I don't wanna hear that name right now. Ready with the spell, Watcher?" Spike grabbed the back of the chair and tipped it - dragged the acolyte back to the training room. Giles followed, hastily grabbing chalk and some herbs.

Anya stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "I'll just stay here. I've got a good view and I can hear the phone. Do you need any knives, or pliers, or matches?"

"Think we're well set up, ducks, thanks." Spike drew his knife from his boot - tapped it against his lower lip thoughtfully and circled the acolyte as Giles did the spell.

"That's all right then," he said softly as Giles finished, and bent to his work.

 

_Running_ , trying very, very hard not to knock people aside. The hyena pushing his senses to the limit and the soldier quartering and dismissing sections of the grounds with swift, hard glances. Oz beside him, eyes black, trying to keep the wolf at bay. Scenting for Willow and Tara and following the scent through the crowd like a rope of twisted green and red. Fury pounding through the link from Spike, and abruptly something else - gleeful satisfaction and an almost mindless bloodlust. Xander knew the acolyte was getting something very nasty done to it, and he hoped it had something more to tell them then what they already knew.

Oz growled, swinging his head abruptly over to the left and then he darted away, _*follow follow follow*_ in the link. Xander ran after him - dodged a juggler and nearly tripped over a baby-stroller and then he saw them. Willow and Tara, cuddling close on a park bench. Willow had Tara's head on her shoulder, and Tara was holding her hand awkwardly - _bleeding._

_*Light witch **hurt**.*_

_*She found her she found her thank God,*_ as they ran up to the bench - skidded to a stop, panting. Willow looked up at them, her eyes streaming tears, her mouth working in silent, anguished sobs. Tara didn't move, and then she _did_ \- looked at Oz and at Xander, utterly blank.

"There's no way out, when you're blind," Tara said solemnly, and Willow shook, gasping.

"Willow? Oh fuck, Willow, what - what happened?" Xander crouched down by Willow's knees, grabbing her wrist and squeezing.

Willow took in a hard, moaning kind of breath. "I was too late! I was t-too late, Xander I was - I was too laa-aaate." She started to sob brokenly, curling into Tara who looked serenely out at the crowds. Oz sat heavily on the bench beside Tara, biting his lip, and Xander bowed his head for a moment, fighting rage - fighting tears. Tara moved in Willow's tight grip - flinched and made a gasping sound of pain when her bloody hand bumped Willow's arm.

"Willow? What happened to her hand? We - she needs to go to the hospital, Willow."

_*Spike! Have to go to the hospital. Tara - she got Tara....*_ _*Rage*_ , from Spike, strong enough to make he and Oz both flinch, and then silence as Spike abruptly shut the link down to almost nothing. Xander was pretty sure the acolyte was dead. And Spike was on his way.

"Willow - Spike's coming. He's gonna bring the car and we'll get Tara to the hospital. You've got to - get it together, Willow. Tara needs you to be calm. You have to talk to the doctors for her." Xander put his hand on Willow's shoulder - shook her, just a little, and Willow gasped and coughed. Sat up finally, and wiped at her face, sniffing. Oz stood up and darted off, coming back a minute later with a stack of paper napkins. Willow took them gratefully and blew her nose - wiped her eyes again.

"Okay. Okay, Xander, okay. I'm - I'll be okay. Thanks, Oz. Oh _God_ , Xander -" Willow closed her eyes - groped blindly and gripped Xander's hand tightly for a moment.

"It'll be okay, Willow, it will." Xander stood up, looking around warily at the fair grounds. The sun was mostly down - lights were coming on all over the booths and exhibits, but it was still dark - still shadowy and full of places to lurk - to hide.

_*Gotta get out of here, Harris. She might come back -*_

_*Yeah. Right. Gotta go.*_ "Willow, come on, we're gonna walk back up to the street so we can meet Spike, okay?" Willow looked at him for a moment then nodded - wiped her eyes one more time and put on a variant of her 'resolve' face that looked like it might crack at any moment.

_*Trying so hard,*_ from Oz, full of grief, and Xander pushed himself to his feet - held his hand out. 

"C'mon, Willow." Willow took his hand - stood up and then helped Tara up, being careful of her hand. Tara flinched anyway and ducked her head - twisted her good hand in the hem of her shirt and shuffled obediently along beside Willow as they started to walk towards the street.

Oz hovered at Tara's side, not quite touching her. _*Pack,*_ soft and so sad in the link.

"What - what happened, Willow?" Xander asked quietly, and Willow sniffed ferociously and gave a sort of barking laugh.

"We - we had a fight. I was feeling all - second-best and I said - I said some s-stuff, and she - she left, said she'd just come down here.... And then, that little demon, at the shop - it said it was there to watch us while Glory got her key…." Willow hugged Tara a little closer, guiding her around a knot of boisterous students and Tara smiled at her - looked up at the sky.

"Too late now, cat's out of the box. Should have killed it," Tara said, and Willow gulped.

"She - Glory did that - that _thing_ to her - took her mind... Xander, what am I gonna do?" Willow's voice cracked on the last and Xander put his arm around her shoulder.

"We'll fix it Willow - we _will_. We'll figure it out. Tara's going to be okay. She'll be okay." He thought for a moment about mentioning Spike - that she'd done that to him, too, but -

_*Don't*_ and he looked over at Oz - nodded. It really wasn't the same. They were at the street now, and Xander could hear the DeSoto roaring towards them, and they kept walking, trying to cut the distance. The car skidded around a corner and came to a screeching halt, and Spike was half out of the door, looking at them across the roof.

"C'mon - get in!" he called, and Oz trotted forward to open the back door for Willow and Tara. As they approached, Tara recoiled, looking into the dark interior with trepidation.

"Oh no, no, no - too dark. They can find you in the dark," she whimpered, and Spike did something - made the dome light come on. Xander hadn't even realized it worked.

"It's all right, pet. Not dark now. Bundle her in Red, that hand looks like it hurts." _*Fuckin' bitch is gonna **pay**...Glinda….*_

Willow shot a grateful look at Spike and coaxed Tara into the back seat. Oz climbed in after her and pulled the door shut as Xander got into the front.

_*Not too fast - don't scare her,*_ Xander thought, and Spike looked over his shoulder at the girls.

"Ready then?"

"We're ready, Spike. I guess you're - all right now, huh?" Willow was holding Tara close and Tara had closed her eyes.

"Right as rain, witchling." Spike put the DeSoto into gear and they drove to the hospital at an amazingly sedate pace - but still faster than Xander would have dared drive. Giles and Anya were waiting at the desk, Giles with a clipboard half filled out, Anya looking grim. Willow gulped and steeled herself, and led Tara down the white, antiseptic corridor to the waiting doctor.

 

It turned out Glinda-witch's hand was broken - six bones - and Spike watched Xander and Oz try to keep Willow calm - try to comfort her. Hovering over Tara as much as Willow did.

_*Pack pack pack,*_ in the link, the wolf and they hyena both angry and hyper-protective. Red was over her first shock, and Spike could see the fury building in her - fury that threatened to spill over onto a hapless orderly who told her that Tara had to spend the night in a ward - _'observation, just a precaution'_. But the scent of anger and magic rose around Willow like a hot, stinging cloud and Spike wondered what she was going to _do_ with all that. He wanted to get Xander and Oz _away_ \- that much thwarted fury was never a safe thing - but he knew they'd be there as long as Willow was. And Tara - huddled on the gurney, smelling of fear and her eyes looking into some dark place only she could see.

The demon wanted to get _her_ away, only seeing the threat of out-of-control magics, uncaring of the link between the two witches. Buffy arrived, hollow-eyed and grim, out of breath. Giles tried to distract himself by asking Spike how he was - what had happened exactly, over the past week, but Spike wasn't in the mood to share. He growled and lit a cigarette, ignoring the baleful looks Giles shot him, ignoring the tentative _'excuse me'_ some little nothing of a nurse aimed at him. A bigger, less tentative orderly curtly told him there was _'no smoking'_ in the hospital and Spike snarled and flicked his cigarette into the man's chest, at the end of his patience. Before the orderly could quite recover from his shock Xander was there, apologizing, telling him that Spike's 'sister' was hurt and Spike was just a little out of it and he was so sorry. Spike just turned and put his boot through the cinderblock wall and then stood there, shivering, as Xander leaned into him, blanketing him and putting his arms around him, holding him close.

_*What is it? What's wrong?*_

_*Red's gonna fuckin' blow - gotta get out of here - Glinda's makin' me -*_ Spike could barely form a coherent thought. Every time Tara said something - whimpered in fear - some part of his week's worth of nightmares would come back to him. Glory's voice in his head _'small and scared and dirty and when it finds you it's going to **punish** you and you can't get **out** '_ and even though he knew it was just - echoes, bad dreams - it twisted at something in him and he was pretty sure he couldn't stand to be there and hear Tara go through it much longer.

_*Love, it's all right, you're safe, safe...Spike, I'm here -*_

Spike turned around and pulled Xander to him - breathed deeply of his scent and felt his solid muscle and heat like a balm. _*All right. Love you. We should go - get the Bit.*_

"Yeah -" Xander jerked around in startlement at voices raised in argument - Willow and Buffy, face to face, both furious.

"When will it be the right time, Buffy? When _you_ say so? I can't just -"

"You _have_ to Willow! We can't go running over there, we can't just take her on like this!"

"I didn't ask you to come along!"

" _Stop it!_ " Oz stood between them, looking as if he was going to wolf out at any moment. _*Not pack*_ making his rigid posture and clenched fists more a warning then any sign of restraint. Spike glanced at Xander, whose shocked expression was rapidly changing to one of worry. Anya, coming back from a vending-machine run, stood frozen in the doorway, her arms full of chips and soda, her expression one of annoyed bafflement. Spike hoped she wouldn't say anything just then - Red was at the limit of her control.

"You aren't going anywhere, Willow. You _can't_. It doesn't matter how angry you are - if you had the power to kill Glory we'd have asked you to do it months ago." Oz's voice was low and measured but it shook with emotion. "Tara _needs_ you - she needs you _alive_ and not in the same fucking mental ward and not in the morgue!"

Willow gaped at Oz and Buffy scowled, opening her mouth and the werewolf shot her a _look_ , silent snarl, and she snapped her mouth shut. "Sometimes they let people spend the night, Willow - let's go find out if you can stay with Tara, okay? Getting killed by Glory isn't going to help Tara, and it isn't going to help us."

Willow just stared at Oz - stared and blinked and then suddenly she broke down, whooping sobs that violently shook her whole frame and Oz was holding her, shushing her, and Buffy turned away, shoulders slumped. Anya smiled at her and held out a soda, and Buffy waved it away.

"I had no idea Oz could actually talk that much," Giles murmured.

Spike shot him a withering look. "Me and Xander are gonna go get the Niblet - keep her safe. All right?" _*Out of here - need us, wolf?*_

_*Safe. Dawn. Love you*_

_*Big bad wolf,*_ with a mental snicker, and Oz bared his teeth in a mock growl at Spike, rubbing Willow's back.

"C'mon love, let's go get the Niblet - Clem's probably got her so stuffed with chips she can't move."

"Okay. Yeah, okay, Spike." Xander stood for another minute, just watching Willow and Oz, then he turned away and smiled a little at Buffy. "We'll keep Dawn tonight, Buffy. Willow might - might want you to stay here."

"Thanks, Xander. I'm gonna - help Giles. Do some research. There has to be a way - some way to get Tara - back."

"Sure." Xander hugged her briefly - sketched a brief wave at Giles, who nodded in return.

"Soda, Xander?" Anya asked brightly, sidling up to him. When she was close, she lowered her voice. "Is there going to be a fight? Is Oz going to bite someone?"

"No, they're okay now, Anya. It's just stress, you know? Thanks." Xander, for lack of anything better to do, took a soda and Anya grinned at him - turned and marched towards Giles with a determined look on her face, chip-bags rustling.

Spike slung his arm around Xander's waist and got him going down the corridor, hugging him close.  
"She'll be all right, love."

"You're all right, aren't you? What - happened back there?"

Spike shook his head, not wanting to think about it. "I dunno. Just - an echo, I guess. Still kinda...remembering the dreams, you know? It's nothing."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." _*Safe love. No harm. Love you.*_

_*Love you.*_

 

It was late - past three - and Xander was trying to sleep, but he was restless, and Spike wasn't in the bed. _*Spike?*_

_*Dawn*_

Xander got up and pulled on his robe - padded softly into the kitchen and leaned in the doorway. Dawn was in the fold-out bed, sitting hunched against Spike, the covers pulled up to her chin. Spike had his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, his robe snugged tight. His arm was around Dawn's shoulders - her head on his chest. She was crying - talking - and Xander closed his eyes and listened, felt her tears and how her body trembled through the link.

"What _am_ I, Spike? Everyone around me is being - being h-hurt and dying because of _me_. I must be this h-horrible, evil _thing_ , just a _thing_ -" Her voice caught and broke and Spike hugged her close, smoothing his hand over and over her hair.

"No, _no_. You're _not_ a bloody _thing_ , you're Dawn Summers, you're the Slayer's little sister. There's not a drop of evil in you, pet."

Dawn took in a hard, shuddering breath, wiping her eyes. "How do you _know_ , S-spike? How can anybody n-know? If Glory gets her hands on me - I'll kill everything - I'll kill everyone -"

"That's utter _nonsense_ , poppet. I know 'cause _I'm_ evil." Dawn jerked, and Spike patted her arm. "All right, all right, _used_ to be evil, all right? _*I can be good for the Niblet.*_

_*Course you can. Bad for **me**.*_

"And Xander's seen you, Bit - he knows what you are."

Dawn sat up - sniffed, and pushed her hair back. "What do you mean?"

"You know Xander can see - things. See your soul, Bit. He can see mine - he saw yours."

"He did? I - I have a soul?"

Spike hugged Dawn _hard_ , and Xander felt that lance of pity and sorrow and fierce protectiveness.  
"Of _course_ you do. He saw it, pet. Told me all about it - told me how beautiful it is - _you_ are. How much love there is in you, and goodness. Doesn't matter what Glory wants to do with you - you _are_ good." Spike caught Dawn's chin in his fingers - turned her face up, so she could see him. _*See the truth.*_

"You are good, and sweet and beautiful, and none of this - _none_ of this is your fault. Blame the bloody monks if you have to blame anybody, but don't you ever think it's your fault, Bit, and don't you _ever_ think any of us think that, either."

Xander _saw_ Dawn through the link - her eyes huge and wet and hopeful, her chin trembling in Spike's gentle grip and her hands clenched tight on the edge of the sheet. "I want it to be over, Spike! I just want it to be _ooover_." She broke down into harsh, gasping sobs and Spike just pulled her close - held her and rocked her and told her it was all right, _'going to be all right'_. There was nothing else to do. Xander stood in the doorway until she fell asleep, and watched the faint, frail green of the false dawn slowly illuminate the two figures on the bed. He quietly closed the curtains, and went to sleep himself.

 

______________________

Pink Floyd - _Money_  
Motorhead - _Eat the Rich_


	28. Flight

"Oohh." Anya shuddered, and Xander bumped her with his shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

"Draft of paralyzing fear." Anya squinted down the street, looking unhappy. "I think the whole ' _Run away! Run away!_ ' thing is a good idea but..."

"But it's a little creepy, yeah. I kinda feel like a sitting duck." Xander put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a brief hug, and she sighed and hugged him back.

"It's too bad you're gay."

"I don't have a problem with it," Xander said, and Anya giggled.

"Everything will be fine, really." Giles got up from his perch on a stack of milk crates and shouldered his backpack, looking oddly out of place in the littered back street. He was in 'stiff upper lip' mode.

_*Think he'll crack?*_

From his place beside Tara, Oz looked up and studied Giles for a moment. _*Take something crazy.*_

"As soon as Buffy and - and Spike arrive, we'll all feel..." Giles stopped as a huge, battered, and rusting Winnebago screeched to a halt before the group. A cloud of dust rose up from around it and they all coughed. "Feel...oddly worse," Giles said, and Xander had to nod slowly in agreement.

"You know, I kinda feel the same way," Xander said. _*Spike? This is the plan?*_

_*Blame the Slayer.*_ Xander hoisted a bag of weapons and yanked the door open. A smell - a sort of thick, dusty, musty smell - rolled out and Xander groaned. "Should'a nabbed that Porsche I had my eye on - just enough room for us and the Bit," Spike grumbled. Xander stared for one incredulous moment at him - the vampire was sitting behind the wheel with a pair of enormous black goggles on. Spike grinned jauntily and Xander had to grin back - turned to help Anya up the steps.

"And what, Oz in the trunk?"

"Room for the wolf if he got all...wolfy."

"Oh good Lord." Giles stopped for a moment at the top of the steps - moved hastily when Dawn poked him. "Spike, you look like a demented Flying Ace."

Spike thought about that for a moment.

"Just call me the Red Baron,"

"Oh good Lord," Giles groaned again, and looked around for somewhere to drop his backpack. Xander grabbed it and stowed it in an empty kitchen cabinet - shoved his own pack next to it and pushed the duffle of weapons up under the sink, out of the way. There was barely enough room for two people to pass side by side.

"Everybody sit down, we've got to get going." Buffy came out of the back of the vehicle from what was presumably a bedroom. She had a map in her hand and waved it vaguely in the air.

"Where are we going?" Willow asked. She settled Tara into the booth seat opposite the kitchenette and slung her backpack down on the table.

"Away from Glory, although I would think that the airport would be a better place to start from." Anya grumbled, settling next to Tara and looking disgustedly at the dusty curtains that had brushed her hair. Dawn slipped in next to her, looking nervous.

"Loaded," Oz said, bounding up the steps and tossing a last duffle to the floor. He slammed the door and Spike clapped his hands together loudly, startling Giles.

"Right. Everybody hold on." The gears made an ominous grinding noise as Spike put the Winnebago into drive and revved the engine. The heap roared away from the curb and everyone grabbed onto whatever they could, fighting for balance. Xander lurched sideways into Oz and closed his eyes for a moment.

_*Oh fuck, this is gonna be bad….*_

_*Pet?*_

_*I don't travel well.*_ Xander slid down the wall and put his arms on his knees, willing the tiny little bud of nausea blooming in his belly to wither and die. The girls swayed together around the table and Giles moved hesitantly up to the front passenger seat and sat down. The windows were covered in foil, except for a square right over the steering wheel. That had some sort of dark plastic film taped over it.

_*Why the goggles?*_

_*Just in case, pet.*_

"Where _are_ we going?" Oz asked, and Buffy rattled her map irritably, clinging to the kitchen counter.

"We're just - going. We'll figure it out when we get there." Oz raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, and Buffy scowled at him. "We're going East right now - towards Lancaster."

"Lancaster?" Xander pushed himself up and staggered over to Buffy - took the map out of her hand. "Huh. Edwards Air Force Base is right here -" he touched the map. "Maybe we could use that…."

"Use it how?" Buffy grabbed at the sink edge as Spike took a hard left.

"I dunno, just - they've got a lot of stuff there." Xander looked inward for a moment, thinking, but the soldier didn't know any specifics and muttered something nasty about the Air Force. "I'll think about it, okay?"

"Sure." Buffy sighed and let go of the sink. "Everybody just...rest, okay? We're safe while we're moving, and we should just try to…."

"Rest, yeah." Willow looked nervously at Buffy, her arm around Tara, holding her against the motion of the vehicle.

"I'm doing the best I can," Buffy said softly, and Willow's eyes went wide.

"I know, Buffy! Don't you think I know that? I saw what she did at the dorm. This is the right thing. We can't - can't let her near _anybody_. She's just - like you said - she's too strong." Buffy looked away, biting her lip, and Xander reached out and touched her hand.

"It's okay, Buffy. I think - we all think - this is the best choice." Buffy looked at him, her eyes dark and liquid - troubled, and too tired.

_*So tired.*_

_*Do what we can, pet.*_

"I'm supposed to _slay_. _I_ am supposed to be the - the Big Bad." A soft chuckle from Spike, and Buffy pushed her hands back through her hair. "I'm the one _they_ run in terror from! Not the other way around! This is just -"

"This is the smartest thing to do, Buffy. She has a deadline - we're gonna make her miss it, and then - she's screwed. Nothing she can do after that."

"Except kill us all," Anya said flatly, and Dawn looked at her, wide-eyed.

"There is that," Spike said, and put his palm flat on the horn, blaring it at some unseen fellow driver. "Wrong side of the road, you git!"

"Actually, _you_ are on the wrong side of the road," Giles said, peering through a tiny rip in the foil.

"I'm bigger than him!"

"That's _not_ how it works, Spike. For heaven's sake, you've been in this country long enough -" Xander tuned Giles out, smiling, and looked back at Buffy who was staring sightlessly at the map.

"Buffy - it's gonna be okay. Really. Between you and Spike, and Oz too, probably, she won't get near Dawn. And Willow can always send her to - to Hollywood or somewhere. East L.A. We're gonna win this."

"How do you know that, Xander? Some special power you haven't told us about?" Buffy's voice was sharp-edged, almost sarcastic, but her eyes were full of a desperate longing.

"No. I know 'cause - we're the good guys, Buffy. The good guys always win."

"Oi! I'm not good!"

"You're our - Doc Holiday. You might not be good but you'll fight for the good guys." Oz said.

_*Doc Holiday?*_

_*Gunfight at the OK Corral.*_

_*A cowboy?*_ Spike's mental image was Clint Eastwood and Oz helpfully supplied Val Kilmer, as well. Spike made a pleased sort of noise. "Gunslinger - I like that," he mused.

"Right - if everyone has decided what movie character they are? I’m gonna...go in the back." Buffy folded the map sloppily and tossed it down - turned and went into the back bedroom. Everyone sat for a moment in silence.

"I think maybe resting is a good idea," Xander said, and joined Oz where he was sitting against the wall, halfway between the kitchenette and the driver's seat.

"I don't think I could rest if I tried," Dawn muttered, and Anya brightened.

"Oh! I brought drugs. And also - Uno. One of those will make you fall asleep. And the drugs are legal - we _Just Say No_ , right Dawn? Most of the time." She began rooting through her carry-all and Dawn smiled at her, shaking her head.

Tara was swaying with the motion of the vehicle, looking blankly at the far wall. "Soon, soon, soon," she murmured, and Willow touched her cheek.

"What's that, baby? What'd you say?"

"Soon-soon. Stairway to doorway to far away, and it's not like we didn't see _that_ coming. Not like we didn't see how _dirty_ it all was." She brushed absently at her shirt and Willow closed her eyes for a moment, her lip trembling.

_*Think that means - anything?*_

_*Dunno, pet. Sounds a bit like Dru…. She **knew** , sometimes...even when she didn't….*_

Xander sighed and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He was still feeling nauseated, and the poor condition of the Winnebago's shocks was doing nothing for his head - every jounce and shimmy made the sickness-induced headache he was getting ratchet up another notch. Oz leaned into his shoulder, comforting warmth.

_*Pack. Be all right.*_

_*Yeah. Good guys always win.*_

 

Close to three hours later, and they were in the desert somewhere. Spike had decided around Simi Valley that going to Las Vegas beat Lancaster any day, and had changed routes accordingly. Now he was curled under his duster next to Xander, sleeping fitfully. He sighed and shifted - sat up and rubbed his hands over his face - back through his hair. It was useless - he just couldn't sleep. He glanced around the vehicle, checking. Everyone had settled into a sort of trance, battered into numbness by the jouncing of the Winnebago. Giles was driving and Anya and Dawn were both making intermittent pleas for a rest-stop. Tara was asleep on Willow's shoulder. Oz was listening to a CD player - some instrumental tracks Derio had made - and the music filtered faintly through the link. Spike nudged Xander with his elbow.

"We there yet?"

Xander blinked and looked over at him. "Huh? Uh - we're just coming up on Barstow." _*Winnebago-head.*_

_*Stop that.*_ " _Barstow?_ Christ - we should be over the line by now! If a certain Grandfather would just bloody well _step on it!_ "

Giles sent an irritated glance back over his shoulder. "Step on what? I've driven tricycles with more power!"

"Christ." Spike lurched upright and pulled out cigarette and lighter - lit up and inhaled deeply.  
He was stiff, and the stale air inside the Winnebago was unpleasant.

"Do you have to do that here?" Willow snapped, flapping her hand in front of her face. Tara woke up with a jerk and looked around.

"Can't do it outside, Red." Spike inhaled again and blew the smoke towards Giles, who muttered something under his breath.

_*Be nice love, please?*_ Xander stood up and stroked one hand down Spike's arm, and the vampire smiled at him over his shoulder.

_*What'll you give me?*_

_*Anything you want.*_ Spike's smile morphed into something predatory and he turned half way towards Xander, running a contemplative eye over him from head to toe. Xander rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. Tara wiggled free of Willow's grip and got up on her knees - pushed her good hand through the blinds and pried them open. A shaft of late-afternoon sun lanced in and fell on Spike's right hand. He yelped at the sudden, searing pain and jerked away, smoke rising from his skin, and Willow pulled Tara down abruptly.

"Tara! No, you can't do that!"

Tara's eyes were wide and she looked from Willow's frustrated face to Spike's grimace of pain and started to cry. "Dark, it's all dark, it's daa-aark..."

"Oh, honey!" Willow reached for her and Tara flinched away.

"Spike, I'm sorry, she - she didn't know -"

"S'alright Red, I know." Spike shook his burned hand and tossed his cigarette into the sink - leaned over the table and touched Tara's face gently.

"Glinda, don't cry - it's all better now, see? Not smokin' or anything. Go ahead and look out the window all you want, sweet - I'll be fine." Spike wiped tears off her cheek with his thumb - pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. Tara sniffled and looked at him - looked at his hand, touching it lightly with her fingertips.

"There isn't any reason for it, you know - the pain and the screaming. It's just part of being here,"  
she whispered.

"That so? Have to go someplace else then," Spike replied softly, and Tara looked back up at him - nodded her head slightly.

"She - did she understand you? Did she - ?" Willow looked incredulous and Spike shrugged, pulling back to lean on the kitchen counter. Xander leaned next to him, lacing his fingers with Spike's unburnt hand.

"Dunno. Maybe." Anya had pulled a juice box out of her carry-all and was getting the straw in. Some of the juice squirted on the table and Tara bent over it, watching the reddish-purple beads quiver on the worn Formica.

"Why do you - Spike, why do you care about Tara at all?" Willow was looking at Spike as if she thought he might yell at her, and Xander squeezed his hand a little. Spike looked back at Willow for a moment, and then Tara, and shrugged again.

"She's -" He stopped then, uncertain of what to say.

"She's pack, Willow," Oz said softly, standing up and turning off the CD player, pulling the headphones down.

"What does that _mean_ , though?"

Oz looked over at Spike and Xander. _*You mind?*_

_*Go ahead, wolf.*_ Xander nodded silently, and Oz stepped over to the table, repeating Spike's gesture and tucking a strand of hair back behind Tara's ear.

"It means...she _fits_ , Willow. She..." Oz stopped. The link was a moil of confused thoughts. Spikes own thoughts were muddled. It was almost impossible to really _define_ why Tara was pack and Willow was not. She simply _was_. She fit, as Oz had said. She was - easy with them. Accepted them. She accepted _him_. She'd made Spike feel a part of the group even when the rest of the Scoobies hadn't - and when he hadn't cared to feel that way. She'd kept silent about him and Xander, and she hadn't felt any animosity towards Oz, when most would have resented or feared an ex-boyfriend, especially one that had meant so much. She had the ability to make things seem - safe. Calm.

"She's the earth, Red, she's…."

"Mother," Oz murmured.

"She accepts us," Xander said softly, his hand tight around Spike's, and Spike caught the flash in the red witch's eyes when he said that. Willow was still uncomfortable around Spike, and lately she'd begun to make pointed comments about how little time Xander spent with the other Scoobies. The underlying theme being it was Spike who was keeping him away.

_*I **did** threaten to put a bottle through her brain, but...I was drunk. Wouldn't do that now unless she really pissed me off.*_

"I accept you, Xander."

"I know you do, Willow. I'm - I can't explain it. It's just - the way it is." Willow looked unhappy with that - opened her mouth to say something when Buffy came out of the back room where she'd been - sleeping? Brooding? A look of anger on her face.

"Giles! Look behind us." Giles, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, looked into his side mirror and cursed softly.

"What is it?" Xander asked.

"The Knights of Byzantium."

"Bloody hell - how'd they find us?"

"I don't know, but they just put an arrow through the back wall. Dawn, get down under the table. Willow, you better get Tara down there too." Xander moved to the front and tore the foil away from the passenger window and peered out.

_*How many?*_

_*Too many. Fuck.*_

_*We might be faster -*_

_* I doubt it. Duck!*_ Spike ducked, instinctive, and saw sunlight cut through the dimness again as Tara pulled the blinds apart.

"Horsies!" she shouted gleefully. Willow grabbed her and pulled her down. Arrows thudded through the walls in rapid succession and Spike threw himself flat, cursing. 

_*Useless in the damn day - **fuck**!*_

_*Not useless - sun's almost down anyway -*_ Xander crawled back to Spike and pushed his duster over to him and Spike wiggled around getting it on, another layer between his skin and the sun. Buffy darted up to the front of the vehicle, crouching down next to Giles.

"Weapons!" Giles shouted, gunning the engine. It made an unpleasant sort of whining noise.

"We're bloody well _in_ one!" Spike shouted back, even as Xander rolled over and yanked open the cabinet, dragging the weapon-duffle out from under the sink.

"Oh, don't hit the horsies!" Willow called from under the table. Spike shook his head.

"We won't!" Buffy called back. Then she leaned in close to Giles and Spike heard her whisper: "Aim for the horsies." Giles nodded grimly and sent the Winnebago careening to the right. Oz cursed, wedging himself between Spike and the girls, who had all managed to cram themselves under the table. Tara was humming to herself, looking at Dawn.

"Pretty pretty pretty," she sing-songed, and Dawn looked away. There was a cry of ' _Come on, men!_ ' from outside, and then a thud, and Spike looked up.

"They're on the bloody roof, Slayer!" Buffy looked up as well - jumped up and came back to them. 

"Xander - the hatch! Help me -" Xander stood up, making a stirrup from his hands for Buffy to step into and then dropped to his knees as a sword plunged through the roof half a foot from his head.

"Damnit - Xander, come on -" Buffy looked furious, and Spike figured a little bloody mayhem would go a long way towards settling her nerves. He only wished he could indulge in some as well.

_*Fucking sun - **careful** , pet!*_ Spike stood up next to Xander as he once again bent to hoist Buffy up. He cocked his head, straining all his senses. There was Knight, just there - and now there was - "Watch it!" Spike moved on pure instinct - grabbed the blade that punched down through the roof and held on with all his might, ignoring the fiery shock of the steel slicing into his palms and fingers. Buffy ducked away from the blade, wide-eyed, and threw the hatch open.

"Hurry up Slayer!" The Knight was yanking furiously on his trapped weapon and Spike felt it grate along bone. Then Buffy was up and out and the pressure suddenly eased off altogether as she did something to the Knight.

"Got 'im Spike, let go!" she yelled, and Spike let loose of the blade with a gasp of pain, dropping to his knees. He held his hands cupped over his thighs and his palms began to pool with blood.

_*Spike! Fuck -*_

"Help the Slayer, pet, I'll be fine -" Spike jerked his head upwards and Xander hesitated one moment - jumped up onto the table and then swung himself out through the hatch. The sword was yanked back up out of the roof. _*Careful! Don't be a bloody hero, love.*_

_*Careful,*_ Xander agreed, and Spike got a brief glimpse of Buffy doing a high kick and sending a Knight flying off the roof. The bloody sword was clenched in her fist. Another Knight was clinging to the Winnebago rails, and a third was flinging a grappling hook, preparing to leap from his horse and climb up. At least two dozen - more - were ranged behind and beside the vehicle, weapons drawn, riding hard. 

"Here, Spike -" Dawn was wiggling out from behind Oz, some sort of towel in her hands. She yanked at one edge, ripping a long piece free and Spike hesitated for one long moment and then bent to his hands, rapidly drinking the blood that had pooled there.

_*No point in wasting it.*_ If Dawn noticed she didn't make any sign and she edged closer and held the make-shift bandage out. Spike held his hand up and let her get to work, keeping an ear cocked to the action outside.

Giles was weaving the Winnebago back and forth over the road, and through the link Spike saw Buffy take a kick to the head and go over the side - catch herself at the last minute. Xander scooped up a dropped sword and aimed a sweeping cut at the Knight who had hit Buffy, sending the blade deep into the man's shin. The Knight screamed and reeled backwards, and Xander rushed forward and hit him again, sending him off the roof in a flurry of limbs and cloak. He hit and rolled in the dust and the pursuing Knights frantically tried to avoid the body of their comrade. Xander dropped to one knee, panting, and Spike saw his bloody hand, scraped raw on chain armor.

_*Dead?*_

_*As a doornail, love,*_ Spike agreed.

_*Good. Protect pack.*_ Oz glanced up towards the roof, wolf-eyed, and they both jumped when the window over the table shattered and a Knight fell through, axe waving wildly and chipping a huge splinter out of the Formica top. Oz _leaped_ , half-way to the wolf and a moment later there was a spattering of blood across the wall and the Knight fell back, throat gone. Oz dropped back down, snarling, and Anya opened her carry-all and pulled out a dispenser of Wet-Wipes. She waved them at Oz.

"Want one?"

"Jus' ge' messy again," Oz growled, and Anya nodded in agreement and put the wipes away.

Dawn finished tying the bandage on Spike's left hand and looked at Oz, her eyes wide. "Doesn't that taste gross?" she whispered.

"No' rea'y," Oz replied. They all looked up as Xander dropped back through the hatch onto the table, cursing as he slipped in the blood.

"I think they've given up. They lost about six Knights - maybe they'll drop back, try to regroup, and we can outrun them."

"Is Buffy alright?" Giles called, looking in the rear-view mirror at Xander as he clambered down from the table.

"She's fine, Giles, just keeping an eye out. I think maybe -" There was _crash_ from the front of the Winnebago and Giles cried out. Spike smelled _blood_ , suddenly - blood he recognized from numerous incidents on patrol and looked up to see the Watcher slumping sideways in his seat. The front window was shattered and the haft of a spear bobbed through the hole. The head seemed to be in Giles.

"Hold on!" Spike roared, even as Xander flung himself towards Dawn and Oz grabbed Willow and Tara. Spike tried to spread himself over everyone as Anya braced against the underside of the table and then the world was falling, spinning. The Winnebago slewed sideways - lost momentum but gained a ferocious wobble - and heeled over into the sand. Everything slid to a halt with a grinding jerk and Giles made an inarticulate sound of agony. Spike could hear hoof beats, rapidly retreating, and then running footsteps. There was a crunch and Giles' door opened and Buffy was peering in, haloed in a dusty shaft of sunlight, her face pale.

"Giles!"

"I - I'm...all right..." Buffy dropped down beside him, her hands going out hesitantly but not quite touching.

"Not bloody likely," Spike muttered. He staggered to his feet, dropping down from the cabinet door to stand on the backsplash behind the sink. Oz grabbed his forearm and hoisted himself up - went rapidly up to the front of the bus.

_*Keep them away,*_ in the link and then the wolf was there, leaping up through the open door and out. Brief image of the sun, a hand-span above the horizon, veiled in hazy clouds. Then Oz was streaking away, to harry any lingering Knights away from their position.

"Xander - help me. Is everyone all right?" Buffy called.

"They're all fine, Slayer." Spike let Xander use his arm for a brace and climb out from the heap of bodies between table and cabinets. He made his way up the Winnebago toward Buffy as Anya slung her carry-all over her shoulder and shoved Dawn upright.

"Let's go out the hatch," she said, and Dawn looked anxiously at Spike.

"It'll be all right, Niblet, wolfling is out there. Go ahead. Here -" He gingerly handed her a backpack and then watched Anya climb out the hatch. Dawn followed a moment later, and then Willow got Tara on her feet, taking another backpack along with her own. Spike slung the weapons duffle over by the hatch, wincing as he flexed his hands.

"Anything in the back we need, Slayer?" Buffy looked up distractedly from her crouch over the Watcher, a smear of blood on her cheek.

"What? Uh - no, it was all - all up here."

Spike grabbed a last pack and tossed it after the duffle -edged forwards, keeping clear of the still-lethal sunlight that was fading through the broken windshield. _*What's the damage?*_

"I think - you'd know better than me, Spike," Xander said softly, and scooted away a little. Giles was pale - sweating - and his breathing was shallow. The spear had come out - fortunately the Knights used a smooth, leaf-shaped blade rather than a gut-destroying barbed one - and the wound was bleeding freely. Spike leaned in and took a long sniff. Buffy made a small sound, and Giles hands fluttered at his sides, as if to push him away.

"Spike, what -"

"Just - checking. I don't smell any...well, there's no bowel-smell. So he probably won't get peritonitis. Looks like he lucked out."

"You call this _lucky_?" Buffy looked incredulously at Spike, and he frowned at her.

"Damn lucky, considering he could have taken that spear in his heart, Slayer - or his throat. He'll survive this - he'd already be dead, otherwise." Buffy's lower lip trembled, just a little, and she jerked angrily as Xander tried to put his hand on her shoulder.

"Buffy -"

"I - I know, Xander, I..." Buffy closed her eyes for a brief moment - shook her head. "There's a First-Aid kit under the seat there. Would you two - do what you can for Giles? I'm going to check on everybody - see if there's...if there's anyplace to go - some sort of shelter. We can't stay in here."

"Sure Buffy, we can do that." Xander's voice was soft and Buffy took a long, long breath.

_*She's losin' it.*_

_*No. She'll be okay. We just have to - be there for her. Okay, Spike?*_

_*For you, love.... Whatever you ask.*_ Spike couldn't help a slow caress of Xander's wind-knotted hair, and Buffy looked hastily away - stood up and jumped onto the drivers seat and started lifting herself out of the Winnebago.

"I'll be right back, guys. Giles - you'll be okay." Then she was gone, and Xander was rooting out the kit. Giles blinked slowly, shivering a little.

_*He's going into shock, Xander. We need to get him out of here.*_

_*Yeah. Help me -*_ Xander dug through the First-Aid kit and Spike started helping him pick out the biggest gauze pads, Betadine scrub, rolls of Ace bandages. It would be makeshift, but if they did it right the Watcher's innards wouldn't be strung over the desert, and the bleeding would be controlled. As they worked Oz sent images periodically, and Spike watched with impatience as the sun slowly sank. Once it was safe, he thought he might go hunting. Xander glanced at him, catching that thought.

_*You and me both, love.*_ Outside, Oz howled, and Spike didn't bother to keep the demon at bay anymore. The Knights were in for a very bad time.

 

It took the combined efforts of Xander, Spike and Buffy to get Giles out of the Winnebago. Spike had wrenched the bedroom door off its hinges and tossed it out through the broken windshield and they lashed Giles to it with spare blankets. Buffy had found an abandoned gas station about a mile away, and they went for it as rapidly as possible. The Knights were already re-grouping and Oz was circling in closer and closer, unable to keep that many armed horsemen at bay. Spike had wrapped himself in the last blanket and sprinted for the gas-station and was waiting inside as they arrived. The building was barely standing, the warped wooden walls and boarded up windows letting in too much sun, and Xander cast around in desperation for a dark corner for Spike, his arms aching from helping Buffy carry Giles.

Oz darted in, the last of them, panting and _*they're coming!*_ in the link. Hoof beats - the jingle and creak of armor - and the Knights were upon them. Several burning arrows managed to smash through the poorly-boarded windows and embed themselves in the walls. Xander and Anya worked to snatch them down and stomp them out, and Willow grabbed Tara and Dawn and shoved them both back into the corner behind the counter they'd laid Giles on.

"Willow! Can you do - anything?" Buffy shouted, struggling with a defunct coffee machine.

"Almost there!" Willow shouted back, paging desperately through a book. Spike jumped up from his crouch behind a rusting heater and helped Buffy shove the machine over onto its side, blocking the door they'd come in. Xander could feel through the link the burning pin-points of pain as sun found exposed skin on Spike. More Knights arrived, pounding on the windows with axes and swords, and Oz leaped and growled, managing to drive them back momentarily. But the building was soon surrounded.

Suddenly glass shattered, and one of the windows was _gone_ , the remaining shards of glass showering down on Dawn and Tara, the boards snapping under the pressure of armored hands and shoulders. Dawn screamed, covering her head, flailing at a groping arm and Spike was across the room with a roar, snatching Dawn and Tara and pulling them away. Turning, he shoved them into Anya and Xander's arms and pounced with a snarl on the Knight that had fallen half into the room. Spike wrenched off the soldiers' helmet and coif and struck, morphing into the demon and sinking fangs into the exposed throat. Dawn made a sound - a sort of moan - and Anya pulled her away. Xander watched for one long moment, the absolute hate and bloodlust in the link almost overwhelming. Then he turned away, snatching an axe from the open weapons-duffle and smashing it into the boards. The Knight on the other side jumped back with a curse and then suddenly they _all_ backed off, and Xander looked around in trepidation. A Knight - helmet-less, in a rich red tunic - stepped into the room.

"I demand the Key. Surrender it now and we will let you live."

"Not bloody likely," Spike snarled, and lunged for the man at the same moment that Buffy did. Xander grabbed Spike and held him.

_* Wait - wait, love.*_

_* **Kill it!** *_ from so many sides Xander flinched. The hyena was as ready to rend and destroy as the demon and the wolf were, but Xander was sure this guy was someone important.

_*Might be someone we could negotiate with!*_

_*Listen to Harris!*_

Spike subsided, growling, and Buffy stopped several feet from the Knight, staring at him. "We won't turn the Key over to you. We're _both_ trying to defeat Glory - why won't you help us!"

"The Key must be destroyed - there is no other way." The Knight raised his sword and took a step forward, going straight for Buffy, and she whirled and kicked, sending him staggering back. He recovered - lurched forward - and Buffy kicked again, this time hard enough to spin him around. He stumbled into a steel support pillar, his skull thwacking hollowly. He fell straight down onto the gritty, oily floor and lay still.

_"Enemies, fly and fall - circling arms, raise a wall!"_ Light exploded out from Willow - rushed away from her in an expanding ring. It rushed through Xander like a wash of heat and pressure and was gone, through the walls and beyond. There were cries of anger and surprise from the Knights outside, and Anya peered through a hole in a board.

"That knocked them down and - it's keeping them back. What is it?"

"It's kind of - kind of a force field." Willow's voice was hoarse and she moved shakily over to Tara, who was huddled next to Dawn.

"How long will it hold, Willow?"

"Half a day, probably." Willow sat down heavily next to Tara, and Oz trotted over, letting Tara pet him. Dawn looked over at the dead Knight, and then at the unconscious one, and put her head down in her hands.

"Okay - okay..." Buffy ran her hands back through her hair - looked around her with a bewildered air. "We need - we need to - make sure Giles is okay, and...." She stopped, and took a couple of steps towards Dawn, looking down at her.

"Dawn, are you all right?" Dawn looked up, her eyes red, tears tracking down her face.

"I - I'm okay, Buffy -" Buffy hurried forward and knelt down next to her, hugging her close, and Xander glanced over at Spike, who nodded.

"Hey Buffy, why don't you take a break for a minute and let me and Spike and Oz take care of stuff, okay? I'll have Spike check on Giles." Buffy glanced up at him - nodded distractedly - and Xander nodded back.

_*Clothes.*_ Oz pulled gently away from Tara and started looking around the room. Spike bent to the dead Knight and carried him to the door - tossed his body out onto the ground. Xander spotted the various backpacks where they'd been piled and found Oz's. He glanced around and saw that there was a second room in the back; no doorway, but it was big enough for a little privacy.

_*Oz, here-*_ He walked back into the room - put the backpack down and went back out, running one hand down Oz's back as they passed each other.

_*Thanks. Okay?*_

_*Yeah - you?*_

_*Yeah.*_

Spike was hauling the unconscious Knight up and dragging him to the post he'd brained himself on. He sat him down and pushed his back against the post, then looked at Xander over his shoulder. "Find something to tie him with, love? I don't fancy him bein' free."

"Yeah." Xander cast around - finally came up with a length of greasy chain that appeared to have been part of a chain-fall for hoisting engine blocks. He brought it over and changed places with Spike, holding the Knight's shoulders against the post while Spike knotted the chains around his wrists, opening links and re-attaching them so it was impossible for the Knight to escape. Xander could feel the pain through the link from Spike's hands, and Spike cursed steadily under his breath. Finished, they stood up and moved over to Giles, who nodded weakly at them and closed his eyes. Xander took Spike's hands in his, looking at the creased, blood-stained bandages and streaks of oil and dirt.

_*You need more blood.*_

_*Sun's down - I could go get a couple more Knights.*_

_*No.*_ Oz walked out from the back room, human again, and dropped his pack, and Spike and Xander both looked over at him.

"Why not, wolfling?" Oz glanced around at Willow, who was opening a bottle of water for Tara, and Buffy and Dawn, who were whispering together. Anya had gathered up a spare blanket and was curling herself into a corner. It looked like she was going to take a nap, and Xander envied her her calm.

"I think - the more warm bodies between us and Glory the better," Oz said softly. Xander and Spike looked at each other, and Xander slowly nodded.

"I think you're right." Spike sighed and leaned into Xander, closing his eyes. Xander pulled him closer - reached out to Oz and rubbed his hand slowly across the werewolf's back, the _pack_ feeling thrumming through the link, calming them all, settling them. It was warmth and safety, and Xander felt the tension of the last few hours ease just a bit.

"Spike still needs blood, though," Xander said, and Oz nodded - made a motion of his head towards the back.

_*We can do that,*_ in the link, and Xander nodded back. Buffy stood up suddenly, and Dawn anxiously watched her stride over to them.

"Okay - what the hell happened, Spike?"

"Hmmm?" Spike looked up at her, eyes half-shut, barely moving from his relaxed pose. Oz moved in a little closer, protection-impulse in the link. Spike was injured, and shouldn't be exposed to any threats.

"You killed that Knight."

"He was goin' for the Bit. 'Course I bloody well killed him." There was a startled gasp from Willow, and Xander saw her struggle to her feet behind Buffy.

"He was a _human_ , Spike! We're not supposed to kill humans!"

" _Spike_ killed him? But - but how?" Willow asked, breathless and flushed, coming up next to Buffy, and Spike glanced over at her, impatience in the link.

"The usual fuckin' way, Red. He'd have killed her if he could, Slayer - I didn't give him the chance. And I didn't see you asking the Knights out on the road any questions about their intentions."

"That was different - I didn't have any choice - I couldn't let them stop us!" Spike straightened, anger building, and the hyena grumbled restlessly.

_*Always excuses*_

_*Protect pack, get it away -*_

_*Hush, love.*_

"Listen, Slayer - these guys may look like the worst sort of Ren-faire wannabe's but they're playing for keeps. We're just in the way of their ultimate sodding goal. I, for one, don't give a flying _fuck_ about their status as a species."

"You _can't kill them_ , Spike. They're human. If we - if we talk to them -"

"Forget it, Slayer." Spike held his hands up, palm out, and Willow looked hastily away from the gory sight. "I'm not playing white-hat here. Anybody that threatens the Niblet is dead. Simple as that."

_*Spike, back off - please love, she's -*_

_*Gonna get us all killed, thinkin' like that.*_

_*Not pack not pack,*_ in a grumbling monotone from the hyena and the wolf both ,and Xander felt the tension flood back in, tightening a gut already sore from a day's worth of nerves.

"Buffy - listen -"

" _How_ did you kill him, Spike?" Willow interrupted. "Is - is the chip not working? Buffy?"

"No, Willow. It's not. Not - for a long time," Buffy said slowly, and Willow gaped at her - looked wide-eyed at Spike.

"How long?"

"Since we got the wolfling out, Red. Since then." Willow just stared at him - shook her head slowly.

"Buffy, how can you - how can you trust him? I mean - Xander, you can't - that spell is - but _Buffy_ , you _knew_ -?" Buffy sighed, and her shoulders sagged, and suddenly she looked completely defeated - exhausted - barely able to stay upright. 

"Willow - it's not important. Just - leave it alone, okay?" Xander said softly, and Willow turned a furious glare on him. Spike and Oz both shifted to get between them. Xander took a step forward and then stopped and whirled around as he felt a hand on his back. Giles' eyes were open - he was, in fact, trying to sit up, and Xander immediately moved to his side and pushed lightly on his shoulder. "Lay back Giles, please? You'll make it bleed again."

Giles slumped back and Buffy was on his other side, Willow beside her. "You mustn't - mustn't bicker like this. You need to - to concentrate on...on a plan, on -" Giles took a shaky breath and coughed, grimacing, and a bead of blood welled at the corner of this mouth.

"Fuck -" Xander looked up at Spike, who shook his head slowly.

"He needs a doctor, Slayer - we need to get the fuck out of here."

"I don't think that's gonna happen." Buffy bit her lip - looked up, as if contemplating the gathered Knights outside the walls. "If I could get someone to come here.... Do you think they'd let him in?"

Xander glanced at Spike again, who shrugged. "They're pretty 'Knights of the Round Table', in a totally...lame way," Xander said. He noticed something over Buffy's shoulder, and an idea formed. "But I'll bet they're just full of rules and regulations when it comes to war. Why don't we ask cool guy over there?" Buffy and Willow both turned to look at the captive Knight, who was awake and glaring at them. 

 

"So, here goes nothing," Buffy mumbled, steeling herself, and she and Spike heaved the coffee machine away from the door - opened it. As night had fallen the assembled Knights had lit a couple of fires and driven tall torches into the ground at intervals along the edge of the protective bubble. As Spike and Buffy stepped outside they closed ranks, hefting weapons and grouping opposite them. Two older men in long robes - clerics - chanted softly, hands out to the barrier. Xander watched nervously from the doorway, Willow beside him. Oz was back with the girls and Giles. Anya was, unbelievably, still asleep and snoring ever so slightly. Buffy skirted around the dead Knight Spike had killed - put a hand out and stopped him as Spike made a move to kick the body out of his way. Spike snarled, but stepped over the corpse instead.

"Xander - why didn't you tell me? About Spike." Willow's voice was low and soft and full of hurt, and Xander sighed and looked over at her.

"I'm sorry, Willow. I wanted to, but..."

"But _what_ , Xander? We're - we're still friends, aren't we? I mean - I know we've had our differences, but I thought - after you told us about you and Spike, that we - that we were gonna be back to normal!" Willow's eyes were wide and wet - her lip trembled - and Xander was once again reminded of a rabbit.

Xander put his hand lightly on Willow's shoulder, rubbing. "I was just...afraid to tell you, Willow. I know Spike really scared you, in the past. I wasn't sure if you'd - if you could trust him. It just seemed like - the best thing to do would be to wait. And you'd see - how much he helps us - how much he loves me…. I figured you'd trust him, and then when we told you it - it wouldn't make a difference."

Willow jerked away at that, and Xander let his hand fall to his side. Her eyes were hard now - narrowing in anger. "Of _course_ it makes a difference, Xander!" she hissed. "I mean - he killed that Knight! Is he killing other humans, too? I know you don't - you don't buy blood anymore. Willy said something when Tara and I went down there that time. It didn't make any sense then, but now -" She stopped and shook her head - looked over her shoulder at Giles.

"I guess Giles knows, too?"

"Yeah - he and Buffy found out at the same time. Willow - he's not gonna hurt us. And he doesn't kill anybody."

"Yes he _does_ , Xander. He killed that man - who else, that maybe you don't know about?" Willow looked truly furious now - was shaking just a little, and Xander took a step back from her, _*not pack not pack*_ howling out from the hyena, abrupt fear. "I mean - you say he's got a soul, Xander -"

" _Say_ he's got one? Do you think I _lied_ to you about that?" Xander felt a sudden surge of anger - all of his selves reacting to that with outrage.

"Xander - we both know how much your family hurt you. And how much you wanted a family of your own that would.... Don't you think that your - your _pack_ is just kinda - convenient?" Willow glanced over at Oz, something going across her face - jealousy? Hurt? Xander couldn't catalogue it and then it was gone. "I think you put too much trust in Spike, Xander. If he's had a soul all this time, why did he keep killing people? Why didn't he help Angel, fight for the good guys?" Xander stared at Willow, at an utter loss.

_*Not pack!*_

_*She's not one of **us** Harris. She doesn't trust us. We can't rely on her anymore to be on our side.*_

_*Stop it! Yes we can. Guys, that's **Willow** \- she's my...best friend....*_ That stopped Xander cold. _Was_ she his best friend anymore? A moment's inner examination and Xander knew she wasn't. Spike - and Oz - had taken over that role. Filled the hole in his heart that even Willow had never quite fit into, all the way. And the others' instincts - _insistence_ \- that Willow was not pack.... It was true. He'd tried to ignore it but she _wasn't_ , and never would be, and he didn't know if it was her magic or her stubborn need to see the world just one way, but she was slipping away from him. Xander felt as if he'd been punched - for a moment he couldn't catch his breath. He struggled to find something to say that wouldn't come out sounding mean.

_*Protect pack,*_ and Oz was there, silent.

"Willow - you really need to back off," he said, and Willow rounded on him, furious.

"Stay out of it, Oz! You're as bad as Xander, trusting a demon - trusting _Spike!_ He almost killed me! And Cordy almost died because of him! Whatever he's doing -"

"He's _helping us_ , Willow - why can't you see that? Glory _tortured him_ , and he didn't say a word - didn't tell her _anything_ -"

_*Calm, love. Not the time.*_

Xander took a hard breath - looked over at Oz, who was struggling for control. All of the reactions to Willow that had got him grabbed by the Initiative in the first place were _there_ , right there, drawing the wolf up and out. Oz turned abruptly away, and Xander caught a glimpse of black eyes - of Oz's mouth in a silent snarl.

_*Wolf - calm, love - pack is safe, just get away from her.*_ Spike was as agitated as Oz, and Xander glanced over at him. He was watching the Knight that had stepped up to talked to Buffy, but his senses were all trained on them, and what was going on behind him.

_*Calm, yeah. Calm. Safe.*_ Xander took a hard breath, and looked at Willow, who was staring at him.

"What are you doing, Xander? I'm trying to - to talk to you and you're all - in outer space."

"I'm listening to the voices in my _head_ , Willow. The ones that tell me they love me, and trust me, and wouldn't hurt me for the world." Xander moved away from the door, seeing Buffy and Spike coming towards them, negotiations over. "Now is not the time for this, Willow. We have more important things to worry about."

Willow looked at him - slowly shook her head. "Not the time. You know, people keep telling me that. I'm getting kind of sick of hearing it." She turned sharply away and went back to Tara and Dawn, and Xander shuddered all over - closed his eyes for a moment in relief as Spike's arm slipped around his waist.

_*Love you, pet. Let it go.*_

_*Not pack. Never will be,*_ sad and soft from Oz, and Xander shook his head.

_*I don't want it to be like this. I love her….*_

"They'll let me bring help, if I can reach him." Buffy came up to them, looking happier than before. "That guy - Dante - he gave me his 'oath'. Hopefully we can trust him."

"His kind usually keep to the letter of the law, Slayer. Just play by their rules and you can trust them. Wankers."

"I just need to call him - I wonder if that pay-phone works?" Buffy mused.

"Oh - wait," Oz held up a hand - went over to the heap of packs and picked his up - extracted a cellphone from the depths of it.

"Derio made me bring his. Said if I didn't check in once a day he'd have his gran curse me." Oz smiled a small, crooked smile, _*miss him*_ softly in the link. He handed the phone to Buffy and leaned into Spike as the vampire reached out and put an arm around his shoulders.

_*Be back to him in no time.*_

_*Yeah...I know.*_ The three of them stood there, _pack_ , watching as Buffy dialed a number. She looked nervous and shifted from foot to foot as she waited through the ringing.

"Hello - Ben? It's - it's Buffy…."


	29. Lost

"He's coming." Buffy held the cell phone out to Oz and the werewolf took it, tucking it away into the pocket of his baggy cargo pants. "He was - on the highway, going down to L.A. He lost his job…." Buffy looked at the three impatient faces looking back at her and shook her head. "He can probably get here in a couple of hours - his car is faster than the Winnebago, anyway. Can - can Giles hold on that long?" Buffy looked at Spike as she asked, and the vampire nodded slowly, glancing over his shoulder at the still form.

"He'll be all right, Slayer. We got a little water into him - he's asleep."

"Okay..." Buffy rubbed her hands tiredly over her face. "Thanks, Spike," she said, voice very low, and Spike shrugged.

"No problem." Buffy nodded and wandered away, heading for Dawn, and Xander put his hand gently on Spike's back - rubbed there for a minute.

"You're being so nice." _*Thank you love you.*_

"Family, pet. I'm not happy with some of them...but I won't let them come to harm." Spike looked worn out and Xander slid his arm around his waist and pulled him gently over to the far side of the room - faint impulse in the link and Oz followed them into the shadows. The sun had been down an hour now or more, and the desert chill was creeping into the place. The only light came from the torches and fires the Knights had lit beyond the barrier and in the flickering dimness Xander was sure no one would see them. He put his back into the corner and pulled Spike close, one hand curled around his back, the other cupping the back of Spike's neck.

_*Drink a little, love. You need it.*_

_*Pet -*_

"Spike - c'mon. Just a little. That...Knight wasn't enough. And you know my blood - works better." Pain, from Spike's hands and from numerous tiny burns shivered in the link, just below conscious thought but maddening as a buzzing fly. Xander stroked his thumb over Spike's cheekbone - leaned down and kissed him softly. Spike shifted a little closer and sighed in pleasure - let his mouth slip down from lips to jaw to throat. Muscle and bone rearranged themselves and his fangs pierced easily.

Xander leaned his head back against the worn boards behind him and surrendered to the waves of shivery heat that washed over him, arousing and comforting at the same time. After a minute or so Spike pulled away and kissed him - fleeting warmth from the blood, taste of metal and lemon and smoke. Of vampire blood, like sparks of darkness - Spike had bit his own lip. Taste of _Spike_ , cloves and sweet, and magic, thick in the back of his throat.

_*Magic in the blood. In all of us now.*_ Xander let the rest of the room - the rest of the night - fade away for one long, blissful moment. Then they both slowly let go - backed off - and Xander took Oz's place on watch as Oz offered his throat and Spike pulled him close, taking. The need, the lust, the _love_ , shivered through the link, heady and distracting. Xander blinked slowly - felt through the link Spike pulling back - felt the near-pain the withdrawal caused. Oz's hands tightened reflexively across Spike's back for a moment, then he was letting go and Spike was taking deep, long breaths, eyes closed. Euphoria, in the link, and possessiveness.

There was much more to this than Spike feeding - it was reaffirmation. Comfort from the stress of the past few days, and a strengthening of their link - of their family. Oz's eyes were glowing witchfire-green in the dimness, and Xander knew his own were - could almost _feel_ the hyena right there behind his eyes, _wanting_. From outside came the acrid stink of unwashed men and metal - horses and blood and burning wood, dung and something cooking. Smells that recalled other fights - other enemies - and the soldier moved restlessly.

_*Wanna go out there and -*_

_*Fuck something up.*_ The demon gazed at them both, malice and chaos, a hair's breadth from release and Xander took a hard, deep breath - pushed the others down and away, taking control again.

"Can't. You know we can't. Can't open the barrier, can't - kill them."

"Can and will, the minute I get the chance." Spike shook the demon away - squinted out through a crack in the boards. "Not that many of 'em. We could take 'em on - they wouldn't stand a chance." Image in the link, the three of them like Hell's own angels, and Xander took a sharp breath.

_*No....*_

from Oz, and he turned away abruptly, going over to Giles and tucking the blanket up around the man a little more securely.

_*Wolfling?*_

_*Don't. Don't want....*_ Oz turned back to them, his eyes wide and his hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunching. "I don't want to - lose it. I don't want the wolf to take over, Spike. I can't. Willow is…." Oz stopped, and they all felt the unease - the frustrated desire - in the wolf. He had his pack, but he needed _mate_ , and Willow had been that - was _still_ that, in a purely physical sense that the wolf couldn't resist or deny. His heart wanted _them_ \- wanted Derio. Something deep in the wolf wanted the age-old magic of the female. Children - a pack of his own making. "She's so close... I'm afraid..."

_*Safe - safe, wolf.*_ Xander and Spike moved at the same moment - surrounded Oz and held him close. "We wouldn't let you hurt her, Oz. It's okay."

"Soon be out of here, wolfling." They stayed huddled for a long moment, reluctantly separating only when Anya walked over.

"Everybody's hungry. Can one of you make a fire?" Anya opened her carry-all. "I brought snacks - tinned meat products! I can cook if somebody makes a fire." She brandished a can of Spam and a can of corned beef, smiling, and Oz smiled back at her.

_*Keep me busy.*_ "I cooked over open fires all through Mexico. We've got plenty of wood - where do you want your kitchen?" They walked off together, and Xander sighed.

"That's -"

"Biology, love. As ingrained as fight or flight."

"He'll be okay, though?" Xander looked anxiously at Spike, who looked back, faint glimmer of gold.

"We'll see that he is. What was Red telling you, before?"

Xander shook his head, propping one elbow on the counter just above where Giles' head was pillowed. "She was pissed at me, about the whole chip thing. She... Fuck, Spike, she acted like she didn't think I was right, about your soul - about _anything_! Like I was being conned." A week ago and Xander might have silently begged for reassurance. He didn't need to, anymore, and Willow's mistrust just made his own resolve stronger. "I thought we were over all that. I don't...want to lose her friendship, Spike. She's the only one who was there for me. For years. You know?"

"I know, love." Spike looked briefly up at him, serious for once. He was unpicking the knots on the bloody bandages, and slowly unwinding the one on his right hand. His palms and fingers had deep score-marks across them, but they were closed over, merely sunken places rather than open wounds. His left hand was the same - nearly healed. He flexed his hands, smiling, then looked back up at Xander. "I can't tell you what to do about her, love. I don't trust her magic - I didn't before, and I trust it less now that I've....seen it. Through you. She _wants_ , love - wants so much and so hard. I don't know if she really understands how her wanting...can hurt." _*Thinks she knows what's best.*_

_*I know.... I hate that I don't trust her....*_ Xander took Spike's hands in his - studied the fading wounds and lifted each to his mouth, kissing Spike's palms. "I just - I don't want to cut her out of my life. I want her to understand - to _accept_. I don't know what to do."

"Leave it be for now, pet - nothing to be done. And until Glory is gone, we have other things to worry about."

"Yeah." Xander smiled faintly at Spike - looked over at Giles as the man moved on his pallet - opened his eyes. "Hey, Giles. You awake?"

"Hard not to be when you two are prattling on practically in my ear." Giles' voice was rough and thready, and he grimaced in pain.

_*Needs a drink.*_

_*I'll find something.*_ Spike wandered off, and Xander moved so that he was down by Giles' waist, making it easier for the man to see him without having to turn his head or strain himself in any way. 

"Spike's going to get you a drink, G-man. Just relax. Does it - hurt a lot?"

"Only when I'm forced to answer annoying questions like that." Giles let a faint smile curl up the corners of his mouth and Xander smiled back.

"You must be feeling better then, if you can be sarcastic."

Giles raised his eyebrows - squinted at Xander. "Where are my glasses?"

"Huh? Oh - here." Xander picked them up from the counter and eased them onto Giles' face, and the Watcher carefully adjusted them with a shaky hand. He looked at the blood smeared on his fingers and let his hand fall back to the blankets, grimacing.

"How bad is it, then?"

"Spike says not so bad. Says you'd already be dead if you were gonna die. Apparently, it takes a long time to die from a belly wound."

"I see.... Xander, what - your neck!" Xander's hand went automatically to the fresh marks there and he shivered a little, touching them. Shrugged at Giles' weak glare.

"He needed blood, Giles. He needs to be at full strength if we're gonna beat Glory. It didn't hurt me, didn't hurt Oz -"

"Xander, I don't understand. You - the last thing I would ever imagine you doing is voluntarily giving your blood to a vampire."

Xander shrugged again, silently willing Giles to calm down. A fine dew of sweat stood on the older man's face, and Xander hoped he wouldn't move around much and make the wound bleed again. "I wouldn't give any to Angel. This is different, Giles. I'm _giving_ it, for one thing - it's not being taken. And...I _love_ him. He loves me. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for him." Xander glanced over at a sharp _crack_ to see Spike breaking boards into manageable pieces for Oz, who was crouched down over the beginnings of a small fire. The girls were circled around, watching, Willow holding Tara's hands back from the flames. "You loved before, Giles - I know you did. I _saw_ it. Wouldn't you have done anything, anything at all, for -"

"Ethan..." Giles sighed, and he closed his eyes for a moment. "Yes, I would have, Xander. Long ago... But Ethan - betrayed us all. Did so many things…." Giles stopped for a long moment, and then took a shaky breath. "I have never regretted Ethan, Xander, but I _have_ regretted some of the things he - persuaded me to. I don't want you to have regrets." He looked sad - infinitely tired, and Xander smoothed the edge of the blanket, not daring to put his hand on Giles' shoulder.

"I don't have any regrets, Giles. I haven't - I haven't turned my back on what you and Buffy do - I haven't given up being one of the good guys. But the world isn't so...clear-cut anymore. I've lived Spike's life too, since the claim spell. I've been inside his memories and seen the what _and_ the why. There's so much _more_...to everything. More sides than two. It's hard, sometimes. But I don't think I've - betrayed myself. Or you."

"You are my only concern, Xander. My feelings on the matter are -"

"They're important to me, Giles." Xander couldn't keep the slight tremor out of his voice.

_*All right, love?*_

_*All right.*_ "I meant what I said before - about you being like a father. I don't want to - disappoint you, Giles."

"Xander -" Giles held his hand out and Xander took it, squeezing as hard as he dared.

Giles squeezed back, and after a moment they let go. "I am - honored - that you see me in that - that light, Xander. I can only hope that I'm able to...to be what you need me to be."

"Already are," Xander said softly. He took in a hard breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "You'll have to trust me on the rest, all right, Giles? Trust that I'm not some - poor deluded fool?"

"I -" Giles stopped, and he looked at Xander for a long moment. "I _do_ trust you Xander. I really do. My background - my _training_ \- tells me otherwise, but I've realized, since coming to Sunnydale, that things are not always what they seem. And one of those things is that my training....isn't bulletproof, as they say." Giles coughed, and Xander looked back over to Spike.

_*Drink?*_

_*You done?*_

_*Yeah. Thanks. Love you.*_

_*Anything, pet.*_ Spike came back over, one of Anya's juice boxes in his hand, and he gave it to Xander - carefully slid his hands up under Giles' shoulders and lifted him a few inches so he could drink without choking. Xander held the straw to his lips and Giles drank slowly, coughing only once. Then Spike lay him back down and he sighed - winced.

"I hope you're correct in your assessment of my physical well-being, Spike."

"Don't fret about _that_ , Watcher - I've seen plenty of belly wounds last for a week or more. And they were men who didn't start out near as healthy as you. You'll be fine."

Giles stared at the vampire - raised his eyebrows. "Do I want to know _where_ you've seen these wounds?" Spike answering smile was wolfish. "I thought not. What, exactly, are we doing?"

"Demon-girl's making Spam. Everyone else is waiting for Spam. That Ben - that nurse bloke from the hospital? Slayer called him - he's comin' out here to have a look at you."

"Good Lord. How did she...? No - I don't want to know. The Knights are going along with this?"

Spike dug out a cigarette and lit it - blew the smoke over his shoulder towards the fire. "Yeah - honorable warriors that they are, they decided not to deny you medical treatment. And we got General Forehead over there, so they're playing nice."

Giles raised his head a little and looked over to where the captive Knight - General Gregor - was still tied to the pole, looking furious. "That's their General? Oh I say - good on us. Has he told us anything useful?" 

"No," Xander frowned over at the Knight. "He only confirmed what you found out - that using the Key will mean the end of the universe as we know it. All he wants to do is destroy the Key - he doesn't care about trying to fight Glory or coming up with any other solutions."

"He is a Knight sworn to his Cause. I'm surprised he even spoke to you."

"He seems to like the sound of his own voice." Buffy emerged from the shadows and Giles looked up at her, a smile of welcome creasing his face. "He told me all kinds of stuff, but nothing we didn't already know. How are you, Giles?" Buffy put her hand lightly in his shoulder and Giles lifted his own hand to hers.

"I'm all right, Buffy. At least, according to Dr. the Bloody." The look Giles sent Spike's way was sardonic and amused, and Spike casually waved two fingers at him - took Xander's hand in his.

"We'll just be having our dinner then, Slayer." Buffy actually smiled, and Xander and Spike walked away - went to sit on the floor near the fire, propping each other up.

_*Spam*_ Xander thought, _*actually smells kind of...appealing...when cooked over an open fire.*_

_*So does rat but you won't catch me eatin' it.*_ Spike's hand crept up Xander's back - began a slow pet of his hair. It was tangled and knotted from the day's activities and his fingers gently tugged and smoothed. It was soporific - infinitely calming - and Xander just closed his eyes and leaned into it. Somewhere off to his right he could hear Oz dialing a number on Derio's cell phone. It only rang once.

_"Oz?"_

"Yeah." Long sigh, and then:

_"Everything - good?"_

"Everything...just is. Score one for the bad guys."

_"Who?"_ Derio's voice was tense, even through the phone.

"Mr. Giles. But Spike says no worries." There was a long pause, and then:

" _Miss you. Don't -. Fuck it. Be careful, amante…."_

_"Yeah..."_

_"Don't take it off, okay, mi dulce? Don't."_ Oz shifted, and Xander could hear something - a soft clicking. 

"Won't. Derio…."

_"Yeah. Te amo, mi amante, mi dulce…."_

"Love you too," Oz whispered, and then the phone beeped, turning off. Xander kept his eyes closed, but through the link he could see what Spike saw. He saw Anya, spooning corned beef out of the can and into the iron skillet she'd brought, a spare t-shirt wrapped around the pan-handle like a pot holder. He saw Willow cutting off small pieces of cooked Spam and trying to get Tara to eat it, and he saw Dawn slowly eating canned peaches. And he saw Oz pulling a string of black and green beads out of his shirt, letting them slide through his fingers for a moment before tucking them away again. He looked tired, and so lonely. The fire sparked gold from the tips of his hair, but made the darker parts seem an almost bloody red.

_*Wolfling....*_ Oz looked up - got up and walked over. Sat down with a small sigh in front of them, cross-legged, head down. _*Pack, wolf. Love you.*_

_*Love you, Oz. Be home soon.*_ Oz nodded, not looking up, and Spike reached out and took his hand.

_*Sleep a little, wolf - we'll need you soon.*_

_*You too,*_ Oz thought, looking up at Spike.

Xander opened his eyes finally - smiled over at Oz and then scooted a foot or so back, so he could lean against the wall. "C'mon, Spike - take a nap." Spike was stroking his fingers over Oz's knuckles - let his hand go, finally, and wormed around, head on Xander's thigh, curled under his duster. Oz did the same, curling up against Spike's back, the top of his head pressed into Xander's knee. The link quieted slowly, finally just a low, steady _pack_ that was more feeling than actual thought. Xander felt his own eyes fluttering shut. He looked around the room one last time - saw Buffy standing by the door, looking out - saw Giles with his eyes closed, resting if not asleep. He slid his hand under the edge of the duster and found Spike's hand, and fell asleep tracing his fingertips over and over the fading cuts.

 

"That's him - he's here, Buffy," Anya said softly, and Buffy pushed herself upright from where she'd been dozing restlessly against the wall. The sound of car wheels crunching over gravel, and a dazzling sweep of headlights showed Ben had arrived. Buffy brushed at the seat of her pants - pushed her hands back through her hair. 

"Have you fixed up in no time, Giles," she said softly, and the Watcher nodded slightly at her, closing his eyes again as Buffy moved away.

"Willow? You ready to make me a doorway?" Willow touched Tara's cheek and stood up as well - went to stand next to Buffy.

"Ready when you are," Willow said quietly, and Buffy nodded. Xander touched Spike's shoulder - shook him gently.

"Love -"

"The medic here, then?" Spike murmured.

"Yeah. Willow's gonna open a door." Spike rolled onto his back and stretched hard, arching up and closing his eyes. The pleasure of it rippled through the link and Oz stirred, lifting his head. Xander leaned down and kissed Spike's mouth softly - grinned as the vampire uncoiled and sprang to his feet, lithe as a cat. He stalked over to the General, looking down at him with gold-glittering eyes, and then went past him to the door, standing behind Buffy and Willow.

Xander got up more slowly, stiff, and stretched himself, working his shoulders and neck. Oz did the same, yawning, and went over to the 'supply' corner. He got a bottle of water and opened it, taking a long drink. He handed the bottle off to Xander, who finished it and walked with the werewolf over towards the door. The Knights were standing warily around Ben's car - a dusty sedan. Ben was inside, looking out the window with a look of astonishment and fear. Willow chanted something under her breath and part of the barrier shivered. Buffy took a deep breath and marched out, back straight. Ben saw her and got hastily out of his car, looking warily at the Knights as he hurried over, a bulky gym bag in one hand.

"Hey, Buffy -" he said softly, and Buffy smiled at him.

"Ben. I really -"

"Slayer." The second-in-command, Dante, stepped up to the doorway and Buffy hastily got between him and the building, pushing Ben gently to one side.

"What is it?"

"We wish to give our fallen brother a proper burial. May we collect his body?" Dante gestured towards the dead Knight that lay crumpled to one side, and Buffy blanched a little - opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't, Slayer." Spike pushed past Willow and strode out the door, and Buffy shot an annoyed look at him over her shoulder.

_*Spike?*_

_*They don't get inside the barrier.*_ Spike moved swiftly, picking the corpse up under its arms and hoisting it effortlessly. It was rigid with death, arms bent awkwardly, but Spike paid no mind - strode over to the doorway and pushed the corpse onto the startled Dante.

"There's your brother. Now back off." Dante sagged under the dead weight and metal - half turned to give the body over to two other Knights who hurried to his side.

"What of General Gregor?"

"He's fine, he's -"

"Staying with us. Red! Close the door."

" _Spike!_ " Buffy looked furiously at Spike, and Dante made a move, as if to push past him. 

"Willow! Close it! We can't let any of them in here." Oz's voice was low and urgent and Willow looked askance at him - nodded finally and took a breath - repeated her chant. The barrier snapped back into place, knocking Dante back a few steps, and Spike stood there for a long moment, watching them. Buffy shook her head but turned to Ben, giving him a weak smile.

"This is all kinda - Outer Limits stuff for you I guess."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Ben murmured, looking at Spike, a puzzled expression on his face. He turned with Buffy and they both came back to the building; Xander, Oz and Willow hastily making way for them. He went straight to Giles - unzipped his bag and fished out a stethoscope and began his examination.

 

"He got lucky. The - the spear missed any vital organs," Ben said, peeling off bloodied Latex gloves and dropping them to the ground.

"Told you so," Spike muttered, and Buffy shot him a mean look.

" _But_ , there's a lot of damage. It broke a couple of ribs and the splinters -" Ben took in the rather sick looks on Buffy and Willow's faces - the lazy interest on Spike's, and stopped. "But you don't need to know the details. He's lost a lot of blood. I brought some Ringer's solution, and that'll help until we can get some whole blood into him. I'm going to set up an IV, and give him something for the pain as well." Giles put his hand up then, touching Ben's sleeve, and Ben looked down at him.

"I don't - want to be all...muzzy," Giles said, and Ben frowned in concern.

"Mr. Giles, you really would be more comfortable if -"

"He knows what he wants, Ben. Just - can you give him enough to -"

"Just take the edge off," Giles finished, and coughed, and Ben shook his head slowly.

"Look, I'll - I'll do it, but it's better for your body if you can rest for a while. It can start healing. Constant pain - just drags you down."

"I understand that, Ben. But for now - I need to - to be aware." Ben nodded - looked up at Buffy.

"I'll do what I can. But you need to get him out of here, and soon."

"We're trying," Buffy said, and she and Willow moved away, talking softly. Xander touched Spike's shoulder - indicated with a jerk of his head that they should leave, as well. Oz was off to one side with Tara, Anya and Dawn, trying to keep a restless Tara occupied. He was letting her listen to his CD player, but she didn't seem to like the headphones and kept fidgeting with them.

"We've got to get some sort of - of plan together. We can't just sit here and let Giles die," Xander said softly, and Spike looked over Xander's shoulder at the Watcher, his eyes flat and cold.

"Ben's got a car, big enough for us. I say we take the Niblet and go. The Knights won't have any reason to hang around once their Key is gone, and -"

"Why can't you just hand over the Key and be done?" Xander and Spike both jerked around, startled, at the voice. General Gregor had somehow managed to struggle to his feet despite his bound hands and was looking at them with a patronizing air. "You ally yourself with the Beast - you defy our Holy Mission - you will bring about the destruction of the world with this foolish behavior!"

Spike snarled and strode forward, getting up close to the Knight, who flinched slightly back and then steeled himself. "If you lot had any balls at all, you'd be on _our_ side, trying to take Glory out, instead of hunting down a defenseless girl." Spike's demon was to the fore and his fangs were inches from the Knight's face.

" _'Our'_ side, demon? You have no side. You are _unclean, unholy_ , and will only bring despair to all around you." The General had the wild glint of the fanatic in his eye, and Xander figured that was the only thing that kept the man from gibbering in utter terror.

"You're mistaken, General," Spike said, softly. His hand was in his duster pocket, and then lost in the shadows between their bodies. Suddenly the General stiffened - made a nasty, wheezing sort of screech. Xander heard the _pop_ of electricity.

_*What the hell?*_

_*Commando toy, remember?*_ Spike stepped away from the General, who sagged against the post, panting. Spike held the stolen taser in his hand. "Forgot all about it, really." Spike looked at the General, who was obviously in pain, and grinned. The hyena grinned right along with him.

"Guys - we really don't have time for this." Buffy strode over, an unreadable expression on her face, Willow hovering a few steps behind her. "Just put it away, Spike. He can't tell us anything we don't already know." 

"But it would be awfully fun making sure," Spike said silkily, and the General seemed to _get_ for the first time that he might be in trouble. He looked at Spike uneasily.

"Xander, rein him in or I will," Buffy snapped, looking ready to do a little damage herself. Spike hissed at her, and Xander moved hastily between them.

_*Calm please love.*_

"I think the best thing to do is - is have Ben drive one of us to Barstow - it's only about twenty miles from here and we can rent a car big enough for - well, for most of us. I'm going to send Giles back with Ben - he has to get to a hospital - and, and Anya can go with him -"

"Split us up? Do you think - do you think that's a good idea, Buffy? Giles won't be able to fight off Glory if she comes calling - or Anya either." Xander stepped a little closer to Buffy as he spoke, keeping his voice low.

"Do _you_ have any ideas, Xander? I'm about out here, and I don't need arguments unless you've got something better to offer!"

_*Back off, Slayer.*_ Spike stepped up close as well, still game-faced, and Buffy recoiled. "Yeah, I got a better offer, Slayer. Let me and mine take those damn Knights out and let us go. We'll get the Niblet somewhere safe and you can deal with the hell-bitch. Her time is short. When the glory-hour is gone - who knows? Maybe she goes up in a puff of smoke, or maybe - she loses her powers. Whatever happens, Dawn's safe."

"Or maybe she just kills everything in her path," Buffy snapped, and Spike cocked his head a little to one side - looked over her shoulder at Dawn, who had got up and was talking to Ben.

"Maybe so. But she doesn't end the world, and Little Bit...is out of her reach." Xander watched Buffy - watched her mull that over, watched her flick her eyes around the room, taking in who would go and probably live - and who would die. He watched her, and knew she was going to make some sort of decision. And whatever it was - it would break her. Anything she chose lead to someone's death, and Xander couldn't let her take on that burden, as well.

_*We can't - **she** can't. Spike - we have to find another way.*_

_*Want you **safe** , want the wolfling safe - want our **family** , damnit, don't give a fuck about the rest.*_

Xander put his hand on the vampire's shoulder and squeezed gently. "I know. But I do. And we can't, Spike. We can't leave anyone behind. We have to find some other way." He looked at Buffy, who looked - grateful, for a moment. And then alarmed, as Tara suddenly leaped to her feet.

" _No_ , oh _no_ , you don't bring that _here!_ Little filthy beasts - _out_ , get _out!_ " Tara pushed Anya aside - evaded Oz's grasp and ran towards the door, clawing furiously at it.

"Tara!" Willow ran for her, but a second yell made her jerk around in startlement, and they all stared at Ben, who was clutching his head in the middle of the room.

"Let me out! Open the door - let me _out_ of here!"

"What the fuck -" Spike started a slow stalk towards Ben, and Buffy looked at Xander in bewilderment.

"He just started freaking out! I didn't do anything!" Dawn edged nervously towards Buffy, trying to keep away from Ben, and Tara screamed again.

"Time, time, _time_ , it's _time_ and Leviathan _rises!_ " Her voice broke on the last, sending her into a fit of coughing, and she scrabbled madly at the door. Willow reached her and tried to stop her - tried to pull her away and Tara tuned and opened her mouth in a hideous, ear-piercing wail of utter terror. 

"Let me _oooout!_ " Ben tore at his hair - pulled it - and Xander felt his mouth dropping open as his hair seemed to stretch. It _was_ stretching - it was growing longer and lightening and suddenly it _wasn't_ Ben standing there anymore, it was _Glory_ doing a little cat-stretch, yawning. She glanced down at herself and grimaced - flicked her fingers and Ben's khakis and pullover became a skimpy red dress.

"My boy Ben - he sure gets around." Glory looked coolly around her, and her gaze fell on the General. "Oh look! It's Gregor!"

"Your time is almost over, Beast, we will crush you, we will -" Glory's eyes narrowed and she reached out absently - plucked a rusting hub-cap that was hanging off a support beam and threw it like a Frisbee. It sliced through the air and into the General's throat and he gagged mid-word, choking - dying.

"Now it's not." Glory giggled and brushed at her fingers. With a roar, Spike threw himself forward, leaping on Glory's back. Oz was in motion as well, the wolf surfacing as he leapt. Spike locked his arms around her neck, attempting to snap it and Glory reached up and clawed at him - pulled him over and _off_ and into the wall, cracking boards. Oz was backhanded away and then Buffy was there, piling into her and being kicked sprawling to the ground.

_*Spike! Fuck, Oz -*_ Xander darted around the Hellgod, heading for Spike, knowing he was no match for her.

"Now now, children, I'm not in the mood." Glory grinned over at Dawn and in a movement almost to fast to track she _pounced_ , grabbing Dawn's arm and spinning them both towards the door. "Let's go, pumpkin! Things to do!" She raced out the door, dragging Dawn, who clawed at the red-nailed hand locked around her wrist.

"Buffy!" Dawn shrieked. Buffy climbed unsteadily to her feet - took off after her sister as Spike rolled and got up, shaking his head. Anya was yanking Oz upright and they all pelted after Buffy, hearing screams from outside.

"Willow! The barrier!" Buffy was yelling - pounding her fists on the barrier, and Xander heard Willow chanting as they ran up behind Buffy. Abruptly the barrier dropped, and they moved forward. But after a half-dozen steps Xander stopped, dazed. It was hard to see in the uncertain light of the fires and flickering torches, but there were bodies - everywhere. Xander looked around him in growing horror and stumbled when his foot hit something. He looked down and recoiled from the Knight who was lying there, throat torn out.

"Oh, fuck -"

"She got 'em _all_ ," Spike murmured, and took off in the direction that Glory had gone. They all heard his roar of frustration and fury. _*She's fucking **gone** , how did she do it, damnit!*_

"Oh my _God_ -" Willow staggered to a stop near Buffy, her eyes wide and horrified. "Buffy, we have to - have to hurry!" She turned to Buffy, and Xander watched in confusion as Buffy's legs seemed to give out. She sat down hard in the blood-soaked dirt, her eyes huge and vacant. "Buffy?" Willow went down on her knees beside her, clutching her shoulder. "Buffy? Come on, we have to - we have to get Dawnie back! Buffy!" Willow looked up as Xander came closer, tears standing in her eyes. "Xander, what's wrong with her!"

"I don't -" Xander crouched down as well - touched Buffy's cheek. Her skin was cold, and Xander could see faint tremors going through her. Her hands were clasped loosely, and she blinked once, slow. "I don't know, Willow."

"Oh dear God -" Xander looked up fast at that and saw Giles in the doorway, swaying, shirtless and pale.

"Giles! You shouldn't -"

"Oh dear God," Giles whispered again, looking around him, fear and anger and horror all crossing his face. Anya stood near him, surveying the scene with a critical eye. Oz trotted up from somewhere, scenting the air and snarling softly, fighting the wolf with every step.

_*Too much blood. Spike?*_

_*Here, wolf. They're all dead.*_ A sensation in the link, a flicker of an image, and Xander knew Spike was draining a Knight - knew the man was gutted and dying in the sand and Spike wanted his blood. Wanted him as dead as the rest. It sent a shudder through him and Spike abruptly shut the link down.

"Oz, get Giles back inside, he can't -"

"What's wrong with Buffy?" Giles snapped, struggling to walk forward, and Oz growled at him, darting to his side.

" _Inside_ , Giles. Now." Oz forcibly turned Giles - made a gesture of his head and Anya hurried over, slipping through the door as Oz half dragged the older man inside.

"Willow - let's get Buffy inside. Come on." Xander stood up - put his hands under Buffy's arms and hauled her upright, and Willow rose with her, taking one hand in hers and guiding Buffy back into the building. Spike came loping in out of the darkness, shaking the demon off as he came.

_*Gotta get a move on, love,*_ he thought, and Xander eased Buffy down onto the floor by Giles, who was sitting on the edge of the counter, looking ill. Anya was putting the IV tube back onto the needle in the back of his hand. Tara was huddled in the corner made by the counter and the wall, and Oz had moved to sit next to her, trying to coax her around. His eyes were black and furious, but the wolf was mostly gone.

"Move where, Spike? What - what the hell happened? Ben - _became_ Glory!"

"He did what?" Giles said sharply, and Xander turned an incredulous look on him.

"He was right here, Giles! He was - himself, and the next minute he was Glory!"

Giles exchanged a puzzled look with Anya, who shrugged. "Ben and Glory - they are - connected somehow?"

_*What in hell!*_

"It's mojo, pet. I think... Wolfling, did you see what happened?" Oz nodded.

"Ben freaked - right when Tara did - and then, Glory. Like the fuckin' robot in Terminator." Xander couldn't suppress a snort of hysterical laughter and Willow looked up from where she was kneeling beside Buffy, frowning.

"Xander! It's not - there's nothing funny here! I don't know how Glory got here, but she's got Dawn and - and Buffy's -"

"She's broken," Anya said. She leaned down into Buffy's face - snapped her fingers a couple of times. "Hel-loooo! Buffy! Little sister in mortal danger! World about to end!" Buffy didn't so much as blink, and Anya stood back up. "See? Broken."

"No, no, she's not - she's not broken, Anya, she's just -"

"She's off in her own little happy-land, is what she is. Or unhappy-land, as the case may be." Spike was searching for a cigarette - snarled furiously at the empty, crumpled pack he finally retrieved from a pocket. _*Why did I see Ben and Glory and not Willow? Why you, and Oz?*_

_*We're not exactly human, are we pet? Think it only works on humans.*_ "Buffy's not gonna be helping us anytime soon."

"But there's gotta be _something_ -" Xander crouched down by Willow and reached out - popped his fingers lightly against Buffy's face. "C'mon Buffy - come back! You're needed out here!"

"Xander - leave her." Spike's eyes were demon-gold, and the link was thrumming with _*pack pack pack*_ , the demon frantic with the need to get _out_. "We need to get back to Sunnydale." Xander stared at him for a long moment - nodded finally and stood up.

"Yeah - okay - how do we do that? Giles has to lay down, and we can't all fit in Ben's car if he does."

"I'm takin' Ben's car. You're coming with me to Barstow. We'll get another car, or truck - something - and get back here. It'll be light in six or so hours - we can be back in Sunnydale by then."

"And then what?" Oz asked softly, and Spike laughed a short, humorless laugh.

"And then I'm outta ideas, wolf. But we've got hours to think of something. Sound worthy, then?" He looked around at Xander - at Giles, who was slumping further down, and at Anya who looked back wide-eyed and shrugged.

"It's more then I've got, Spike."

"Willow - can you do anything for Buffy? Can you help her?" Willow stood shakily and pushed her hair back out of her face. Oz had managed to get Tara to turn around and now he urged her to her feet. Her hands were scratched and a little bloody - her face streaked with tears - and she keened softly and held her arms out, reaching for Willow. Willow pulled her close, stroking her hair.

"Shhh, baby, it's all right."

"No windows, no doors, no _light_ , no light..." Tara whispered brokenly, and Willow hugged her hard.

"I'll figure out something - I can do something but yeah, we have to get back to Sunnydale. I need - need to look at some b-books -" Willow buried her face in Tara's hair and shuddered, crying now, and Xander reached and squeezed her shoulder lightly.

"Okay, it's okay Willow. We'll figure this out." He looked over at Spike. _*Love you love you this is so fucked up **love** you, Spike, my own....*_

_*Your own. Love you, pet, love you.... Wolf, you all right?*_

_*Fine. Hurry back - be careful!*_

"Yeah. We'll hurry. Think Ben left the keys in the car?" Spike stalked out the door, and Xander hesitated one long moment, looking around at the group.

"Everyone be careful - stay alert. We'll be back as soon as we can. Giles - please lay back down."

"Go, Xander," Giles rasped, and Xander saw that _*darkman*_ other face there; a face that was furious and ready to take vengeance on anything in reach.

"We'll get her back, Giles." The dark man - _Ripper_ \- only stared back, a cold and ancient knowledge shadowing his gaze, and Xander turned and strode after Spike, feeling a shiver come over him. _*If Buffy doesn't get Glory - Giles will.*_

_*We better be standing pretty far back if that happens, pet.*_

Spike was doing something under the dash of Ben's car - made a small sound of triumph as the engine suddenly roared to life. "Let's go, love," he called, slamming the door and putting the car in gear, and Xander hurried around to the passenger side and got in. They drove off, dust pluming from under the tires, fading out behind them.

 

____________________  
 _amante_ \- lover   
_Te amo_ \- I love you  
 _mi dulce_ \- my sweet


	30. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus ends part one, 'Something Rich and Strange'. Part two - 'Hold Fast' - will go up soon. You can download a .zip file of part one [here](http://scarecrowhorses.com/docs/Changesptone.zip). 736k. Thank you all, my constant readers and commentors!

Barstow had been crawling with soldiers - Army, Marines, and geek-types from some NASA project, and Spike had had a hard time keeping himself inconspicuously human while looking for a car. They found one vehicle easily, but in the end he'd quietly snapped the neck of a belligerent Marine and he and Xander had driven back to the others in two SUVs, leaving Ben's hot-wired sedan in a back alley. Big enough, once you laid the seats down, to construct a pallet for the Watcher and to hold everyone else. The killing was a steady ache in the link that Spike chose to ignore. Too little time and his nerves so close to the breaking point he simply couldn't deal with the White Knight. Xander touched his cheek - _looked_ at him, wide eyed, as they loaded the Watcher and got the rest settled, and if it wasn't forgiveness it was something like acceptance. Acknowledgment of the situation, and a resolve to deal with it _later_.

Xander drove the Watcher, the Slayer and demon-girl in his vehicle, and Spike got the witches and  
the wolf and the baggage. They drove hard, into the west, and Red managed a sort of 'don't notice me' spell on them, so the any lurking Highway Patrol would ignore them.

Sunnydale was locked down - seemingly dead - and they got Giles to the hospital fast, Spike and Xander carrying him in and surrendering him to bustling nurses and one tired-looking doctor. While Xander filled out paperwork with Willow's help, Spike called Clem and got a cousin to come get the SUVs. It wouldn't do anyone any good to have the stolen vehicle of a dead soldier sitting outside their house. Giles, it seemed, would be at the hospital for several hours - probably past dawn. Xander brought the news out to the others with a worried frown drawing his brows together.

"We can't just sit out here," Willow said, her arm tight around Tara's shoulders. "I have to get a book - I have to be someplace quiet so I can - can help Buffy - so we can get Dawnie back."

Xander crouched down by them, drawing the rest in close. The rest minus the Slayer, who simply stared, unmoving. "Listen - why not just go to Buffy's house? Everybody has extra clothes in their packs, right? We can all get cleaned up and get something to eat while you do your witchy thing. Sound all right?"

"I'm all for a shower and a meal," Anya said, nodding, and Willow drew in a deep breath - nodded as well.

"All right, Xander. That sounds - sounds like a plan." She raised a faint smile, and Xander smiled back

"Wolf, you can drive 'em, right?" Spike asked, and Oz looked up at him, concern in his eyes.

"Yeah." _*Where -?*_

"I know a bloke - bookish - I think he might know a thing or two about our little problem. Me an' Xander, we'll go suss him out, yeah?" _*Keep Glinda safe.*_ Oz nodded slowly - took a hard breath and reached out to run his hand down Spike's arm - touch Xander's shoulder.

_*Careful. Love you.*_

_*Love you,*_ from himself and Xander, no separating the thoughts, and Oz collected the girls, shepherding them out the ER doors and into the loaner. Xander watched them go - watched Spike slip something into his pocket from a cart and then they were out the door, walking down the sidewalk.

_*Love -*_

"I know." Xander sighed - reached to lace his fingers with Spike's, the warm and callused hand feeling so good in his own - solid and _right_.

"Nature of the beast, love," Spike said softly, and Xander squeezed his hand just a little.

"I know that too. I'm - can't I just be...unhappy with it?"

"Not if it means you're unhappy with me." Xander nodded - walked on for a minute in silence, eluding Spike even in the link. Spike groped for cigarettes - remembered he had none and cursed softly. Lights up ahead showed a Quickie-Mart, and he headed towards it gratefully. They went inside and Spike told the clerk what brand, and Xander leaned on him and sighed.

_*Tired.*_

_*I know, love. All over soon.*_

_*That sounds so final.*_

_*Final for **her**. We'll come out all right.*_

"How do you know that?" Xander whispered, his mouth against Spike's neck, and Spike shivered - snatched the cigarettes from the gawping clerk and tossed a twenty at him.

"Mind on your work, git," he snapped, and the clerk glared at him. "I know that 'cause you're the good guys, love. White Hats n'all. Good guys always win. Said it yourself."

"Do we?" Xander asked, and Spike knew it was exhaustion, worry - the long, strange day and night, that made Xander sound so...small.

 _*Always, love.*_ Spike caught Xander's chin in his fingers - gave him a slow and gentle kiss. Something tight in his belly unwound as Xander leaned into him - slid hot hands under the duster and around his waist. The clerk made a squeaking sort of noise and Spike ended the kiss with a delicate nibble on Xander's lower lip - turned to the clerk with his best 'Why don't I just kill you now?' look.

"Where's my change, you tosser?" he growled, and the clerk shoved some money across the counter - mumbled something under his breath.

"I _heard_ that, you fuck -" Spike was ready to snap another neck but Xander grabbed money and smokes and _him_ and yanked him away, glaring daggers over his shoulder at the clerk, who winced away.

"Not now, not him, not here, okay? Better things - well, more _important_ things to do. Okay?" Xander hustled him out onto the sidewalk and Spike abruptly shoved him into a wall - full-body contact and delicious grind of hips and Xander lost his breath for a minute. Coins hit the ground and rolled away, unnoticed.

"Always something _better_ to do, yeah," Spike breathed, and Xander melted into him, fingers digging into Spike's back and his teeth meeting with a jolt of delicious pain through the skin of Spike's throat.

 _*Stop it Spike,*_ and a warning shake of the head, and Spike breathed in sharply - thrust hard into Xander's hip, feeling rigid flesh digging into his own thigh.

 _*Oh but you want it....*_ and Xander bit again, tongue lapping at blood that was welling up, nails making trails of fire down Spike's back. Spike had his own hands on Xander's buttocks, pulling him closer, kneading taut flesh.

 _*Don't have - fuck - time - Spike!*_ Xander arched fiercely against him as he twisted his own head around and sank fangs into Xander's throat, high up. They were both making inarticulate noises around the flesh in their mouths - they were both thrusting and writhing against each other in a sort of mindless frenzy, nerves stretched to the breaking point and _this_ , this closeness the only cure Spike could think of. Suddenly Xander was fumbling urgently at his jeans - at Spike's - and Spike was pushing Xander's t-shirt up out of the way - wrenching at his own and then Xander's hand was on him, hot and tight, his cock right there, slick glide of pre-come, burning like a brand. Spike added his own hand - felt the link open wide and felt the double sensation of warm and cool all down the length of his body.

He sank his fangs a little deeper - pulled against Xander's hold on him and felt the blunt human teeth tear his flesh a little, exquisite torture. The came together, gasping, and Xander finally opened his jaws - sucked gently on the wound he'd made before letting his head fall back with a little thump on the bricks behind him. Spike did the same; gently disengaging his fangs and cleaning the wound - letting his human self slip back. Surprisingly, the mess was minimal and Spike very deliberately pulled their hands up to his lips - took wet, fragrant flesh into his mouth and sucked. Xander watched him, his mouth red and slightly open, his eyes half-shut but shining green in the sodium glare of the Quickie-Mart signs. 

_*Fuckin' hot, you make me crazy, **love** you,*_ and Spike grinned at him.

"Yeah. Forgive me, love?"

"Nature of the beast, Spike, like you said." _*Love the beast, **am** the beast, want this **over** , Spike.*_

"Me too. Let's go." They tidied themselves away, and Spike opened a pack and took out a cigarette - lit it and deliberately blew the smoke at the plate-glass window three feet away, and the astonished, beet-red face of the Quickie-Mart clerk.

 

Xander hadn't heard of this 'Doc' before, but Spike seemed to think he'd be of some help. Their more-than-make-out session up against the wall outside the Mart had left him feeling oddly energized, and he bounced down the sidewalk next to Spike, pushing all thoughts of apocalypses, Hellgods, and a dead soldier out of his head.

 _*Deal or lose,*_ his soldier had muttered. The hyena was utterly uncaring _*kill or be killed*_ and all of them had taken comfort in the blood that sparked on his tongue - sent a surge of fire through his body. _*I'm in love with the William the Bloody,*_ an odd little refrain in his mind.

"Post-orgasmic endorphins," Spike muttered, pulling him down off the bumper of a parked car, and Xander laughed out loud.

"Probably. But I'm tired of being scared. This is almost over, and we're gonna win. I say so." Xander knew it sounded childish but he was tired of being scared - was tired of feeling like he was in perpetual _flight_ mode, and now was time for fight. Spike just grinned at him, demon's eyes and smoke curling up from between his lips, and when they arrived at Doc's small house, Spike knocked sharply.

"It's always open!" a voice called. They went inside, to a room lined with books and what was obviously magical paraphernalia. There was a fire burning in a fireplace and the room was oppressively hot. A small, grey-haired man sat at a table, a thick book open before him, a spiral notebook and pen under his hand. He barely glanced up. "Can I get you boys some cocoa?"

"Maybe some other time, mate," Spike said, and Doc looked up sharply.

"Oh! It's you! Time-bomb go well, then?" Spike smiled a tight and malicious smile at the man.

"Worked a treat."

"Oh, good, good." The little man got up and came out from behind his desk. He was wrapped in a thread-bare old robe, and had worn slippers on his feet and gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. "A tricky spell, that. Very inventive. I'm only glad it worked out to your satisfaction." He stood there, beaming, and Spike ground his cigarette out on his boot-heel. Xander just looked around, taking in all the oddments and curios.

_*Giles would love this place.*_

_*Doubt it.*_ "Yeah, it was fucking brilliant, Doc, but we're here on other business tonight."

"Yes? Well, always happy to help - what can I do for you boys?" Spike drew his flask out from an inner pocket - took a long swig and offered it to Doc, who made a prissy little move of his hand in rejection.

"There's a Hellgod loose in Sunnydale just lately. Sucks out your mind if you get too close - wants to get a Key and get home. You know anything?"

"Hellgod! Oh my. Oh, my...you can only be asking about Glorificus. She's - she's big time, fellas. _Real_ big time. I'm only a small-time guy, myself." The man moved nervously around the room, touching a book here, a statuette there, and Xander watched him, ready for...anything, really.

"Small-time, maybe, but I know you've got your fingers in all sorts of pies." Spike drew slowly on a fresh smoke, watching the man through half-shut eyes.

"Oh, me? No, no... Glorificus is - bad, fellas. She's _real_ bad. Best advice? Get out of town - just as far as you can. That's what I'd do if - if I had anything to do with her." He ended his jittery wanderings near a small table, and his hand went out to stroke a small, lacquered box. 

"Doc - she's found her Key. She'll use it and she'll tear the universe apart when she does. Everybody go poof, you savvy?" The man gave a nervous little smile - touched the box again and then jumped slightly when he noticed Xander staring at him. Spike was getting angry - a twitchy, vicious feeling in the link, and Xander wondered what the old guy was up to. He was acting...odd.

"Oh, well…. In that case, maybe you should...." Doc tapped his mouth with a finger - looked up at Spike with a small smirk. "I know a fella, who knows a fella in China - you could go there -"

"China?" Xander turned to Spike, shaking his head. "Is he kidding? We don't have time for _China_!" _*Spike, what the hell?*_

 _*Patience, pet,*_ in the link but the surge of cold rage was anything but. "You're lying, Doc," Spike said softly, and Doc shot a startled look at him - narrowed his eyes and smiled a tight little smile.

"You think so, vampire?" Xander felt his heart start to pound at the sly, malevolent look on the old man's face. Then Doc _moved_ \- was across the room and picking up a sword - lunging at Spike's throat with it. Spike dodged - spun - kicked the sword out of Doc's hands and aimed a ferocious punch at him. Doc evaded, barely, and Xander went for the sword, grabbing it up and turning in time to see Doc snatching the lacquer box and throwing it into his fireplace.

"Her day is coming, boys!" he shouted, and Spike leaped at him - backhanded him away from the fireplace and dragged the box out of the flames, cursing. Xander raised the sword and Doc opened his mouth. A thick, black length shot out - _*That's his tongue? Oh fuck, his tongue!*_ \- and slapped wetly into Xander's chest, slamming him back into the wall.

"Oh, are you gonna see something when she rises!" Doc chortled. Spike dove for Doc's legs and brought him down hard, pinning him.

 _*Sword!*_ Xander turned the sword and brought it down, hard and fast, straight through Doc's chest. Bluish-black blood shot up, spattering his jeans, and Xander backed off, a disgusted look on his face.

"Fuck, Spike. What in hell -"

"I guess this Hellgod's got followers all over. Least we got what he was trying to destroy." Spike stood up slowly and retrieved the box. It was slightly scorched but otherwise fine.

"What is it?"

"Something worth dying for, I guess. Let's get outta here, yeah?"

"Yeah."

 

The house on Revello drive was dark when they got back, and Xander had a strange sense of déjà vu as they came up the walk. Oz was sitting in the porch swing again, waiting for them, broadcasting _pack_ in a low monotone that drew them in as surely as a hook and line. They settled on either side of the werewolf, Xander letting out a great sigh of relief and Spike dropping his arm around Oz's thin shoulders. The sky was lightening along the horizon, and the waking-up noises of birds and households seemed out of place - too normal.

"All in bed then, wolf?" Spike asked softly, and Oz nodded and leaned into him. Xander scooted a little closer and Oz twisted slightly, putting his calves across Xander's thighs. Xander rested his hands on Oz's shins, unconsciously rubbing up and down.

"Willow - did this spell. Went into Buffy's head with her."

_*In the Slayer's head. Christ.*_

"Did it work?" Xander asked. Oz nodded again, eyes fluttering closed and then open as he fought to stay awake.

"Yeah. Buffy woke up finally and they all cried on each other and then they went to bed. Buffy wanted -" Oz broke off in a huge yawn and Xander yawned right along with him. "Man! Tired. Buffy wanted to go to the hospital but we talked her out of it. I called - Giles is going to leave in the morning." Oz yawned again and closed his eyes - snuggled a little into Spike's shoulder.

_*Another sleep-over at the Slayer's house. My reputation is dirt.*_

Xander laughed at Spike softly. _*What other vamp in history has been invited into the Slayer's house?*_ Spike seemed to consider that - caught himself in a long blink.

"Bed, loves, don't you think? You talk to Derio, wolfling?"

"Mmmm? Yeah. He's all right. Gonna see me tomorrow." Oz made a half-hearted effort to sit up and Spike pushed him a little. Xander got his arm around Oz's waist and all three staggered upright and made their way into the house. Blankets and pillows had been stacked on the couch and they made a haphazard pallet on the floor. Spike made a last prowl of the house while Xander and Oz used the bathroom, then he slung his duster over a chair and they curled up in the blankets.

 _*Nest,*_ very faintly from the demon, and the wolf had never stopped his _*pack*_ , and Xander spared a last thought towards the coming fight, and then let it all go. _Family_ , and for the moment they were all safe.

 

Exhaustion kept everyone asleep until past noon, and only Giles coming quietly into the house woke Xander and Oz. Spike opened one eye and looked blearily at the Watcher, then rolled over and was asleep again. Xander kissed him swiftly on the temple and then got to his feet, stretching and yawning, feeling Oz do the same. Giles stood looking at them for a moment, then shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"What's up, Giles?"

"Oh, well, nothing much except that you three resemble a heap of puppies. Or perhaps - Kindergartners." Giles' smile was a little wider, and Xander had to grin back.

"Didn't go to Kindergarten," Spike mumbled.

"Poor you. No eating of paste and no nap-time."

"Never getting to be milk monitor!" Oz said, wide-eyed, and Spike finally lifted his head, looking like a dazed lion with his hair every which way and his eyes golden in the dimness of the living room.

"What in bloody hell are you talking about?" he grumbled, and Oz laughed and stumbled off to the bathroom, scrubbing his hands through his hair and wincing at tangles.

"Just reliving the golden days of our youth," Xander said, and followed Giles into the kitchen, where the older man sat heavily on a stool. "How did you get here? You should have called -"

"I took a taxi, and that's all right. I knew that all of you needed to rest." Giles leaned his elbows on the countertop and Xander had never seen him look so old - so worn.

"Giles? How - are you okay?"

"Not according to the doctor, who wanted me to stay for a few more days. But I'm - all right. Willow did a small spell last night, to help slow the bleeding and it seems to have - acted as a catalyst. I'm healing much faster than I would have thought."

"Not that bloody fast, though." Spike shuffled into the kitchen in socked feet and looked blearily around. "Don't they have a bloody kettle?"

"Please God, I really would like some tea," Giles muttered, and Xander looked around.

"Guess not. Pot'll do, though." He got one down out of a cabinet and filled it with water - got it on the stove and heating. Oz came into the kitchen just then, and Xander hurried to the bathroom. He could faintly hear noise from upstairs and guessed that one if not all of the girls were up. When he got back to the kitchen Spike and Giles were arguing about whether or not Spike could smoke in the house. Spike ended the argument by lighting up and pointedly blowing smoke at the older man and Xander moved hastily to intervene.

"Here - Spike - just stay over here where the fan is, okay?" _*Please, love.*_ Xander turned the vent fan on under the hood of the stove and Spike settled with ill grace against the counter there, flicking ash irritably into the sink. "We got something last night, Giles - might help." Xander retrieved Doc's box from the living room and handed it to Giles, who gingerly opened it. They all leaned in for a closer look. A collection of scrolls were packed into the box, and Giles unrolled one carefully and studied it for a moment.

"This is...this is incredible, this is some sort of...prophecy or - or _bible_ of Glorificus... Oh yes, this should tell us exactly when she will make her move - it may even tell us how to stop her!" Giles bent over the scrolls, muttering to himself, patting at his pockets and coming up with a pen but no paper. Oz handed him the notepad that was by the phone and they all watched in silence for a long moment as Giles slipped into 'Watcher' mode and began to scribble notes. The water finally boiled and Spike made tea, shoving a cup at Giles and drinking his own in a few gulps, grumbling under his breath about having to drink Lipton tea-bag tea. Xander made coffee and Oz scrounged out frozen waffles, bacon, and bread, and by the time Willow and Tara joined them they had breakfast well under way.

"Giles!" Willow cried happily, and bounced over the older man. She hugged him, knocking his glasses a little askew and Giles rescued them, a bemused but pleased expression on his face. "Are you all right? How do you feel? I can't believe the doctors let you go - you _must_ be all right if they let you go - oh, Giles, I'm so happy to see you!" Willow hugged him again and Tara gave her an odd look - moved over to where Oz was sitting at the counter and began to brush her hand down his arm, where glittery paint made a faded design down the long sleeve of his t-shirt.

"Sparkly spark, dancing in the dark..." she whispered, smiling.

"Thank you, Willow, yes - uh - I am happy to be here as well. I'm fine, really. That spell you did yesterday - helped very much." Giles set Willow back half a step and gathered up pen and notes again, a flimsy shield against emotion. Spike snorted softly, making a second cup of tea.

"Oh, I'm so glad! So - what's that? Did you find something? Is it about Glory?" Willow leaned on the island next to Giles, taking up a scroll and studying it, and Giles took it gently out of her hand.

"Yes, it's about Glory. Spike and Xander got it last night. And as soon as I can get to the Magic Box and get - oh - Watson's _'Languages of the Nether Plains'_ , and perhaps... Barlowe's _'Guide'_ , we'll know much more about her." At the mention of Spike's name, Willow grimaced, glancing at him, and the vampire shot her a hard look.

"That's wonderful! And - I've been doing some research into - into the mind thing. I think - I think I found something that can bring T-Tara back." They all looked at her in pleased surprise, and Oz smiled when Tara took the offered piece of bacon from him and began to slowly eat it.

"That's wonderful, Willow. I knew you could find a way." Giles smiled over at her and she smiled back - sent another look of distaste at Spike, who was spreading a large dollop of jelly on a piece of toast and cursing when some of it dripped on his hand. Xander caught the look - moved to distract her.

"Willow - we heard you went into Buffy's head last night - got her to...come back. What happened?"

"Yeah, please tell us what it's like in there, Red. Great echoing rooms full of not much, or is it more like a really bad episode of _'Dark Shadows'_?"

_*Spike!*_

"No, it wasn't like that at all! It was like - it was - was none of your business, Spike! I'm not going to tell you anything about Buffy's -"

"About my self-pity?" Buffy stood at the kitchen doorway, looking fragile and still tired, her eyes dark-circled. 

"Buffy! There wasn't any self-pity -"

"Sure there was, Willow. 'Boo hoo, my life is hard'." Buffy mocked herself softly, and Spike snorted, making a clattering with his knife as he dropped it into the sink and rinsed the jelly off his hand.

"Figured as much," he muttered, and Xander grabbed his arm suddenly and pulled him bodily out of the kitchen, aware that Oz was coming after them, aware that Buffy had sat down across from Giles, smiling softly at the older man - aware that Tara was cringing away from the ill-will that was almost palpable between Willow and the vampire. He got Spike out into the living room and got up right in his face, feeling an unexpected surge of anger.

"Spike, what the _fuck_! The last thing we need right now is - is -"

"What you're doing." Oz perched on the arm of the couch, looking at Spike with a small frown, and Spike bared his teeth in a strange sort of half snarl. There wasn't any threat to it; it seemed more like a nervous tic. _*Protect,*_ in the link, insistent and frantic.

"I want us _out of here_ ," Spike said, his voice low and harsh and biting, and Xander flinched back just a little.

"We talked about this, Spike. We can't leave. We can't - _abandon_ them. I thought you...agreed."

"Agreed to what? To letting you die? Letting the wolfling die? I won't, Xander, I _won't_ -" Spike turned abruptly away from him and pushed his fist _hard_ into the wall. Leaned his forehead against it and stood there, rigid and trembling and _breathing_ in jerky pants and Xander shared a look of mingled fear and confusion with Oz. He moved slowly over to Spike.

"Love -" _*Tell tell tell*_ "Please talk to me, love, please tell me what's wrong. You can try to hide things from me but I won't let you, Spike." Oz was on his feet now, moving slowly closer, and Xander reached out and put his hand on Spike's back - slid it around and tugged gently, turning him. Spike sighed hugely and let himself be moved - let Xander gather him close and hold him. "Just tell me - tell _us_."

_*Pack tell pack love you.*_

"It's...love, I -" There was _fear_ in the link, and Xander was confused - was almost afraid himself.

"When Glory - showed up...when Glinda-witch lost it.... I could… _feel_ something. Xander, I -" Spike finally let go - let his rigid and expert control over the link _go_ , and Xander felt what he'd been hiding - what had strung his nerves so tight and made him lash out. Flashes, little flashes of darkness, of _things_ , scuttling in the shadows, of despair and terror and the greedy, devouring _want_ that had been Glory when she'd pushed her fingers - her powers - into his head. Disconnection - hopelessness - being _lost_ , and knowing you'd never find your way back…. Xander shivered and pulled Spike closer - felt Oz come up close and add his heat and strength to the embrace.

"What is that? Is that what Tara -" Oz whispered, horror in his voice, and Spike clutched tight at them, shuddering.

"When she tried to take my mind - she left something, or she - she _broke_ something - I don't _know!_ But I feel - I'm afraid I'm gonna lose it around her - around Glinda. I can't - control it and I'm -" _*Scared, scared - gonna hurt somebody, won't hurt **you** , won't let it be you, pet...wolf...help me -*_

Spike's fingers were like iron, digging into Xander's back - Oz's shoulder - and Xander ran his own hands up and down Spike's back, pressing and kneading and making him _feel_ , making him know he was there, and not lost, and that they weren't letting go. Pushing everything he had into the link, forcing it open wide and feeling Oz do the same. Feeling the fierce protective urge of the hyena and the wolf both surge up and make them all huddle closer. "Spike - you should have said - you don't have to do this stuff by yourself, Spike!"

 _*Pack leader - keep you safe.*_ Spike thought, and Oz made wolfish growl down in chest.

"Not by yourself, Spike, damnit." Oz gave Spike a little shake and the vampire pulled back from the both of them a little, demon's eyes, and frustration in the link.

"If I can't keep it together around her - or around _Glinda_ for fuck's sake, how much help am I going to be? I can take anything she can throw at us but I can't - " _*Can't take that, can't stand that -*_ That had a different sort of feel to it, and Xander closed his eyes and turned that over and over for a moment. It was - the human part of Spike, that was so profoundly afraid. The demon only wanted to kill Glory - kill anything that threatened its family - and it had no fear except the fear of not winning. But the _human_ part... The human par _remembered_. Remembered the utter confusion and helplessness of the first weeks of the demon's possession. Remembered Drusilla, and how very badly her madness could take her, sometimes.

"You're not - you're not going crazy, Spike. You're _not_. It's just - an echo, like you said. You're just remembering. We'll talk to Giles -"

" _No_." Spike pulled _away_ for one moment and Oz yanked him closer - Xander did - keeping him right there.

"We need to talk about it, Spike! Whatever she did to Tara she did to you too. She didn't with you - she couldn't - but she tried. And if Willow can figure out something to - to get Tara back, then maybe we can use it on you. There's a _fix_ and we'll find it and don't you _dare_ try to tell me no!" Xander was aware of his voice rising and he hastily brought it under control but he really was _angry_. Angry that Spike had tried to hide this - had tried to keep it from them. _* **love you** ,, love you - don't you believe me? Trust me, love, please -*_

"Xander -" _*Always trust you!*_ Spike hung his head for a moment, and then looked up at Xander - at Oz - his expression troubled. "I'm supposed to take care of you, love. Not supposed to fall apart 'cause some fucking hell-spawned bint took a poke at my head. A hundred years with Dru should have made me...used to it, at least." Cascade of images, of Drusilla, who had powers that Spike did _not_ have - who could charm a Slayer to her death and make Giles see the murdered woman he had loved, and Xander shivered. There was more than one way to force obedience. Darla had used her razor tongue and her cold hearted-ness, and Angelus his vicious rages and mind games. But Drusilla had used silken threads of misdirection and fancy, confusion and forgetfulness, and even though Spike had loved her hopelessly he had resented her ability to make him act against his will - to make him _forget_ his will altogether. 

"You don't get used to being - coerced, Spike. You're not crazy. You kept it together fine when Glory grabbed Dawn - I mean, you were trying to tear her head off! We'll figure it out - we'll fix it. Promise, okay?" _*Promise love, promise - take care of you, love you....*_

 _*Protect pack always.*_

Spike looked at them both, gold-glimmering eyes finally fading to blue, and he nodded slowly. "Just - keep an eye out on me, right? Just to - Xander, please." Spike held up a hand, stopping Xander's immediate protest. "Just watch me, okay? I - have to know I can trust you to notice if I'm - not all there." Xander rubbed his eyes - looked over at Oz who was looking serious and troubled. Oz nodded, and Xander sighed.

"Okay. Yeah. We can do that. You just make sure you stop trying to hide things, okay? That doesn't help. Okay? Don't shut us out."

"Promise." _*Promise you...love you both.*_

 

"Is everything - all right?" Giles stood in the kitchen doorway, the singed lacquered box under his arm, his notes in his hand.

"Yeah - it's all good, Giles. We just - well, we need to talk about something," Xander said.

Giles looked concerned - came over to where they stood, and regarded them. "In all the excitement, I never got a chance to - to thank you all for helping me. For - getting me out of the caravan and - well, everything, really."

Xander felt a quick, astonished wave of laughter through the link, and then nothing, and he hugged Spike a little tighter. "No problem, Giles. Anytime you get speared by a knight on horseback - we're there for you." Xander couldn't help but grin at Giles look of exasperation, and then Spike did laugh aloud, suddenly and completely relaxing under Xander's arm.

"Bet that hurt to say," Spike said, but he was smiling, and Giles shook his head ruefully.

"Well, it _is_ something I never thought I'd be saying to a vampire - and certainly not William the Bloody. But that aside - I _am_ grateful. I also need a lift to the Magic Box. My car is still there."

"Oh - hey, I've still got the loaner -" Oz motioned towards the street and the battered LTD Clem's cousin had found for them, and Giles nodded.

"We really should all go - there's a lot of work to be done with these scrolls, and I would feel safer there, where we have more weapons and more - resources."

"My - my mom's car is still here, Giles. We can all fit that way. Are you up to driving, or -?" Buffy and Willow had come out of the kitchen in time to hear, and Giles nodded gratefully.

"How about I drive one car and Oz takes the other? G-man probably shouldn't be doing that just yet," Xander said, and Giles sighed.

"As much as I hate to admit it, you're right, Xander. Driving would be very uncomfortable."

"Okay - so - let's get our stuff together." Xander looked around the room - looked up at the ceiling. "Maybe somebody should wake up Anya?"

 

Spike paced the length of the training room for what seemed like the millionth time. All day, they'd been at the Magic Box. Researching. Fretting. Getting on each other's nerves. Wolfling had taken a break a few hours earlier and gone across town to see Derio. The slow welling of grief and fear and love in the link had driven Xander and Spike into a dark corner themselves, and they'd simply stood there, arms around each other and eyes closed, trying to find a little peace.

All the waiting - was driving Spike crazy. Finally he gave up and took off his duster - squared up in front of the heavy bag and began to pummel it into submission. He could hear the conversation in the other room; Watcher going on about the scrolls they'd found, demon-girl trying to rally everyone, Xander and the wolf taking turns looking up stuff and keeping Glinda occupied, and Red talking about a spell she was sure would bring her girl's mind back. Spike listened to Xander creep up on that topic - broach the problem with the Watcher and Red and deliberately tuned out when the conversation got heated.

 _*Don't care what he says, Red isn't happy to help at all.... In fact, I think she'd like to see me out of the picture altogether, even knowing what she knows about the claim.... Wonder what makes her so...angry? Can't be the whole kidnap thing still - that's ages ago....*_ Spike stopped punching for a minute, thinking about that, but it seemed like a dream, that time, and he couldn't imagine the witch still being that upset over it.

 _*Got her wolf away from the soldier-boys, even if he's not hers anymore…. Did our best to help Glinda-witch....*_ Spike did a spinning kick, sending the heavy bag flying back, the chain creaking ominously.

 _*Don't care what she thinks. So long as she doesn’t make my boy upset, she can hate me all she likes.*_ Spike landed another series of rapid blows and spun around, tense, when the back door creaked open. Buffy stood there, staring at him. "Slayer - out for a little stroll?"

"Yeah. Just trying to - clear my head. Staked a vamp back there -" she gestured towards the alley behind her and let the door slam shut. "Just like the old days - stupid fledge, screaming victim...."

"Huh. You'd think they'd know _here_ , of all places, was off limits. Guess I need to teach a few more lessons to the locals."

"That how it works?" Buffy didn't seem to want an answer - she drifted over to the weights and touched them lightly - looked over at Spike.

"Usually... What's up, Slayer?"

"Oh, I -" Buffy stopped - looked down and brushed dust off her shirt, frowning. "I'm just wishing...things were that simple again."

Spike laughed, shaking his head. "Simple? When was this gig ever simple for you? You _died_ , girl, and came back _not_ a vamp - I'd say that should've been your first indication that things were never gonna be _simple_ , here."

Buffy had automatically scowled at him when he laughed, but by the time he was done her expression had lightened and she walked over to him, tossing the stake she carried down on the mats. "You're right. It never _has_ been simple. Not really. But I could really _use_ some simple, you know?" Buffy planted her feet wide - put up her hands in a stance and Spike felt his eyes go wide for a moment, and then he was grinning - moving fluidly into position in front of her.

"You want simple, Slayer - you got it."

"Spike, why -" Buffy pushed her hands back through her hair, looking for one moment like she just might fly apart. "I'm just a person - just a girl. Trying to save my sister's life. Can you for once - just once - call me by my name?"

Spike stared at her, momentarily coming out of his own stance. Saw her exhaustion, and her barely-leashed despair, and her fear. Saw it all crushing down on her like granite blocks. And for one moment, he wavered. "No, Slayer," he said softly, and Buffy flinched. "That's what you are. However hard it is - it's _you_. Now isn't the time to forget that. Or to try and hide from it."

They stared at each other for a long moment, and Spike saw with satisfaction that Buffy lifted her chin - gave him a look of pure, deadly intent. Then she launched herself at him, punch and kick and leap and turn, and Spike laughed aloud. He hadn't fought anything - anyone - as strong or as fast as the Slayer in a good long while, and it felt wonderful to really _stretch_ \- to use all his agility and cunning, all his strength and speed. They fought back and forth over the training room floor, neither giving an inch, forcing the other to push and push and push some more. After a good twenty minutes they were both sporting bruises - both blooded - and they'd drawn an audience.

Xander and Oz stood in the doorway watching them, grinning like fools. In all that time, Spike had only pulled one move - Buffy had hit a slick spot on the board floor and wobbled, and Spike had come as close as a heartbeat to slicing his nails - and the next two inches of his fingers - straight into her throat. He'd managed to pull back at the last second, and then Buffy had launched herself again. He didn't know how long it would have gone on, but suddenly Anya was there with Giles - and the 'bot - and they both stopped in sheer surprise.

"Giles! What in the world -" Buffy stood there, panting, staring at the 'bot, and Spike wandered over to his duster for a smoke. Xander slipped further into the room, coming around to meet him, his eyes shining. 

"You guys were great - that was really cool," he said, leaning on the horse, and _*Fuckin' sexy, you know that? When you do that....*_ in the link, scattered images and a wave of pure need that made Spike take in a hard, sharp breath.

"Anya actually had a - a rather clever idea, Buffy. She went down to the basement to find the Dagon Sphere - you remember? And the 'bot was down there. I think she's really hit on something." Buffy sent a grin over her shoulder at Spike and walked over to Giles, listening, wiping her hand back through her hair.

"So what's demon-girl thinking?"

"Oh - using the 'bot for bait. Willow spent some time while we were - while you were hurt taking out a lot of Warren's programming and putting in her own. And that Dagon Sphere may well drain Glory of a lot of her power. Plus, don't forget, the hammer of Olaf the Troll. That should dent her a little."

Spike raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Probably should - demon-girl's outdone herself."

"Oh, there's more," Oz said, getting a soda out of the 'fridge in the kitchenette. He held one up, an eyebrow cocked, and Spike nodded. Oz tossed him one - got another for himself. Xander shook his head no.

"Yeah - Giles found out a couple of things. He wanted us all to hear."

"Right, then." Spike opened the soda - some sort of off-brand, green can and greenish drink - and downed about half of it, grimacing. They all walked up to the front and settled around the table. Giles was looking through his notes, and when they sat down he cleared his throat and stood, looking very much the librarian.

_*Loves to lecture, don't he?*_

*Hush and listen or you'll get in trouble.* Spike leered over at Xander and made an exaggerated 'ow' face when Xander kicked at him under the table. Giles cleared his throat.

"If we're all focusing, then? Right. Looking through the scrolls, I've pinpointed the exact time that Glory has to open the portal in order to return home. She must do the - the ritual at the _precise_ moment that Pluto -"

"Giles - please, just - go with the basics, okay?" Buffy asked, and Giles blinked - took his glasses off and swiped at them, and then settled them back on his face.

"Yes, yes of course. At five-forty a.m. - _this_ morning - is when she must open the portal."

"Fuck. That's dawn," Spike said, thinking furiously, and Giles nodded.

"Yes, it is, so you particularly, Spike, are going to have to keep an eye on the sun and - and have some sort of backup plan. Now. The ritual itself entails...well.... The ritual is -"

"It's fatal, isn't it. Fatal to Dawn." Buffy's voice was far away - cold - and everyone looked at her for a long moment. Spike couldn't detect fear in her scent - could read almost nothing but the clean sweat smell from their sparring, and her soap and shampoo.

 _*Hope she's not fading out again...*_

The Watcher shuffled his notes - finally leaned his hands on the table, his head hanging down between his shoulders. "Yes, Buffy - the ritual is fatal. It says 'The blood flows - the gates will open. The gates close when it flows no more.' Essentially, the ritual is over when Dawn...dies."

"Fuck," softly from the wolf, and beside him Xander tiredly rubbed his eyes.

"Why does it always have to be blood?" he murmured, and Spike reached out and took his hand and held it tightly in his own.

"It's _always_ blood, love. It's why we _need_ it.... It - makes you warm. Makes you hard. Makes you other than dead." _*The blood is the life is the magic, pet. Always.*_ "Of course it's her blood."

"Okay, so - all we have to do is just - just keep Glory from doing the ritual, right?" Buffy sent a pleading look at Giles. "We keep her from getting any - any blood, and then - it's over and -"

"There is - another way of interpreting that passage," Giles said softly, and Buffy stopped, staring at him.

"Don't, Giles."

The Watcher looked up at her, his hands in fists, now, on the table, and his eyes had a hard, desperate light in them. Xander's hand clenched down tight in Spike's. "I - Buffy, I _must_. 'It flows no more' also means -"

"Giles, we are _not_ talking about this!"

"Yes we _bloody_ well are!" They all jumped in startlement as Giles' voice was raised in a shout - as he pushed away from the table and thumped it, once, with a closed fist. _*Darkman*_ shivered through the link. Something in the air around the Watcher - nearly invisible wisps of power, and Spike fought the demon's automatic snarl.

"If she starts the ritual - if we're too late - we must -"

" _Don't_ tell me to kill my sister, Giles." Buffy's voice was like ice, and Giles flinched from that, but his mouth was set, and he walked around the table - stood there next to Buffy and looked at her, forcing her to meet his eyes.

_*Watcher's got the right of it. Fuck.*_

_* **No**! No way can we - we can't do that, Spike.*_

"It may be the only way, Buffy."

" _No_. I will _not_ kill Dawn, Giles. But I _will_ kill anyone who tries to hurt her. The monks made her from _me_ , Giles - I can feel it, when I hold her...she's part of me, and I won't - I _can't_ let anything happen to her."

"Buffy - if Glory begins the ritual we will _all_ die. Even Dawn."

"I know, Giles. But the last thing she'll see is me protecting her. Not - not killing her. I mean it, Giles. Don't - don't make me have to stop you."

Giles' shoulders slumped, and he nodded finally, and walked back to his place at the table. "The only other thing we know is that Glory was put into a human - an infant boy - in an attempt to contain her. Obviously, that isn't working anymore -"

"But she _was_ Ben...at least for a little while. Giles, what happens to Glory if Ben - dies?" Xander's fingers were like steel bands around Spike's as he asked his question, and the vampire felt the tremors running through Xander.

_*Love - what...?*_

"If the vessel dies, then - then Glory...dies as well." Giles looked hard at Xander, his eyebrows drawn down in speculation. "Xander, what are you -"

"If we kill Ben, it's over. That's - that would work, right, Giles?" _*Oh fuck. I just - said we should kill a man...*_ Xander shivered all over, and Spike edged closer to him, shoulder to shoulder.

"But Ben's human, Xander. And he - he was so nice to - to all of us. We can't kill him." Willow stroked Tara's arm as she spoke, and Tara twisted fretfully away from her.

"I have places to be! Places to be..." She subsided, shivering, and Spike took a deep breath.

"What's the chances of takin' Ben out then, Watcher?"

"Spike! We don't kill humans!" Spike shot Buffy a _look_ , that made her take a step back.

" _You_ don't, but I do. And I'd take him out in a heartbeat, Slayer."

"It's the logical thing to do," Anya said from her perch on the staircase. Oz was nodding slowly, but he looked….

_*Can't let them think about this. **They** can't do it - but I bloody well can.*_

"But he's innocent! He - he didn't choose to have Glory put inside him -"

Spike bent that same look on Willow and she quailed - groped for Tara's hand. "Who's _more_ innocent, eh Red? Ben or Dawn? If saving the world - saving _Dawn_ \- means taking him out, I'll do it. Wouldn't hesitate for a second." Willow's look was fierce and hateful, and Spike grinned at her, fangs showing. "You think I'd stop at taking out a _thousand_ humans - let alone one - to keep my family safe? Think again."

"I really don't believe that - that Ben will be allowed to surface again, this close to the ritual. I'm sure that this is all academic." Giles rubbed his forehead and looked at his watch. "We have - six hours. I suggest in that time that we - try to rest, try to eat. Prepare ourselves. Willow, there are a few things I want to go over with you about that spell you're going to use for - for Tara."

Willow nodded and got up, shooting a last angry look at Spike. She moved with Giles over to the display counter. The 'bot was behind the counter, standing in something that looked like parade rest, and Giles looked at it distastefully before bending over a sheaf of papers with Willow. Anya came slowly down the stairs and stopped next to Oz.

"Anybody hungry? Is that - is that a proper response to all this - terror?" Anya was white, and Oz stood up and put his arm around her, hugging her gently.

"It's as 'proper' a response as any other, Anya. You wanna go see if Giles has anything in the back?" Anya nodded, hugging Oz back, and they walked away, _*love you*_ like a whisper in the air.

Xander watched them go - leaned hard into Spike and put his head down on Spike's shoulder. "I don't think I can just kill somebody - just, in cold blood like that...somebody that I know...." he murmured.

Spike shifted and got his arm around Xander's shoulders - curved his other hand up and around and began to slowly stroke Xander's hair, slipping his fingers through and through the rough silk of it. "You don't have to, love. I'll do it, no worries. I won't -" _*Won't let you do that, love. Won't. You **or** the wolf - you won't go near him.*_

"Does that make me a coward, Spike?" Xander whispered, and Spike hugged him hard.

"No love - makes you _you_. White Knight, always and forever."

 

 

Spike spun on one foot - lashed out with a clawed hand and his straight-razor, and an acolyte went down, gagging on its own blood. Something plowed into his back and he shook it off and turned - punched the snarling fledge so hard its forehead dented in. Glory had recruited a _lot_ of demons for her final hurrah, and the space around the jury-rigged tower where the ritual was to take place boiled with whirling, flailing bodies. Oz was in the thick of it with Spike, half wolf, drenched in gore. Xander was taking out the crazies - all the people Glory had mind-sucked over the months she'd been in Sunnydale. He was coshing them on the head, one after another, trying for unconscious instead of dead. There was a faint hope that they'd return to normal once Glory was out of the picture. The 'bot and Buffy were prowling together, trying to find Glory in the mess. Willow and Tara were with them, waiting to use the witch's spell.

_"You stay close to them, Spike. If Willow can touch them - she can get Tara back. If you're there - maybe you can...get in on it, you know? Or Willow can do it twice -"_

Xander had been so anxious - so _earnest_ \- but Spike knew Willow wouldn't do the spell for him. He had decided that he wouldn't worry about it. If she got Glinda back, and they killed Glory, he was pretty sure everything would go back to normal. Or close enough as made no difference. If neither of those things happened...it wouldn't matter. So Spike lost himself in the fight - in the _dance_ \- and barely noticed when a flash of light, sparking between Willow, Tara, and Glory signaled the spell going into effect. Then the Slayer and the 'bot were on Glory, beating her back, making her _bleed_ , and Spike gave a roar of triumph.

_*That took something outta the bitch!*_

_*Go Willow! Fuck - there's so **many**.*_ Xander knocked another crazy to the ground - ducked a pouncing fledge and brought his stake down into its back. He grinned over at Spike through a momentary window of calm and then darted away, back to his task. The Watcher and Anya were up on top of a pile of construction materials with crossbows, sending bolt after bolt into the massed ranks at the foot of the tower stairs.

Spike leaped on the back of an acolyte - slit its throat and scrambled forward, gaining the stairs and heaving bodies over the side. He lost the straight-razor in the thick folds of skin on a Nyrn and resorted to simply shredding whatever flesh he encountered. A few crazies fell to his methodical attack, but he ignored them. Finally, he was free - moving - going _up_ , heading to the top of the tower and the Bit. He could see her vaguely, a shape against the dark navy of the pre-dawn sky. He had caught her voice once or twice, screaming for Buffy. Now he _ran_ , bounding up tilting stairs and hastily rigged ramps, skidding on warped boards and almost tripping over a chain-fall that was lying across the path.

 _*Pet - almost to the top - almost have her!*_ Spike glanced behind him once - saw the 'bot flying apart, smashed, and Glory running towards the tower, Buffy hard on her heels. _*Fuck - bitch knows it's almost time….*_ An inarticulate surge of bloodlust through the link and Spike knew Oz was launching himself at Glory - _felt_ the werewolf's teeth meet in divine flesh and actually do damage. And then pain as Glory kicked him away.

_*Wolf!*_

_*All right! She's coming!*_

Spike redoubled his efforts - gained the top and stopped short. Dawn was there, tied at the end of a platform like a pier, jutting out into nothingness. And standing before her - standing much, _much_ too close -.

"Should'a stayed dead, mate," Spike snarled, advancing on Doc. Doc turned from Dawn and there was a knife in his hand, streaked red. _*Blood! Oh **fuck** there's blood, he cut her -*_ Spike roared, and leapt, crashing into Doc, ignoring the knife driving into him, ignoring Dawn's shriek of terror. They fell to the metal grating of the platform, and Spike dug his knees into Doc's stomach.

"You're on the wrong side, vampire!" Doc wheezed, writhing like a snake, and Spike dug his fingers into muscle and bone - _ripped_ \- and Doc's collarbones came out through his skin. Spike dug in again, _crack_ of bone, wrenching Doc's ribcage open. The old demon's face was an agonized mask, and Spike reached into his chest and tore out his heart in a gout of blood.

"Stay dead this time, fucker," he growled, and hurled the heart away from him. Doc's body convulsed in its death-throes, and Spike staggered to his feet and kicked it away, over the edge. He didn't even bother to watch it fall. He stumbled along the platform to Dawn, ignoring the burn of his own wounds. Dawn was hanging from twists of steel cable, crying, _bleeding_ , dressed in a ridiculous gown of velvet and gold tissue. Spike scrubbed his hands on his thighs in an effort to get some of Doc's blood off them and then he attacked the cables, twisting and yanking until the strands frayed and parted and finally fell away. Dawn collapsed on him, grabbing tight, and he hissed in pain and made his way to the back of the platform, away from the edge.

_*Got her - got the Bit - she's safe!*_

_*Glory's down - Buffy's on her way up to you - Oh, God, Giles -*_ Xander cut himself off and Spike looked over the edge, searching vainly. He couldn't see anything - anyone - and he slowly sank down to his knees, cradling Dawn close.

"Shhh, poppet, shhhh, I've got you - I've got you. You're safe, Bit, you're safe, and big sis is on her way, and the hell bitch is gone, little one, she's gone and it's all over...shhhh..." Spike rocked the hysterical girl, smoothing her hair over and over. He could still feel Xander - shock rapidly subsiding, exhaustion taking over. Nothing coherent from the wolf - he was taking out the last of Glory's recruits, who seemed to be doing their best to flee now that their leader was gone. He could hear, faintly, the ring of metal underfoot as Buffy _*please let that be the Slayer!*_ raced upwards towards him. He lifted one hand to wipe his face and saw the blood - smelled it - and knew it was Dawn's.

 _*Still bleeding - damn - don't have any bandages, need to - get her down....*_ He pulled Dawn closer, steeling himself to rise. Doc had gotten in a number of hits - four or five, he couldn't tell. Deep punctures that went through his vitals and seemed to have severed - something. He felt weak, and cursed silently. _*Damnit - Xander, love - need help up here....*_

 _*Coming -*_ from Xander, and something from Oz - acknowledgement and agreement. He flinched when Buffy's hand came down on his shoulder.

"Dawn! Oh - Dawn -" Buffy fell to her knees beside them and Dawn flung herself on her sister, hiccupping sobs and babbling something, her hand pressed tight to her belly. Blood seeped through her fingers, and Spike reached out and touched Buffy's shoulder.

"Slayer - we gotta get her down. She's still - " Spike stopped talking, his eye caught by something, and Buffy turned her head, following his gaze. _Light_ , out beyond the edge of the platform. Light that was moving - seething - and Spike felt a clutch of unaccustomed fear as he realized what it was.

"Oh fuck. That's the portal, Slayer - we've got to move - _now_! Got to get her fixed up - stop the - the blood...." Spike lurched to his feet, swaying, and Buffy rose also, pulling Dawn up with her.

"Doc - demon - he got up here - we have to _go_ , Slayer!" Spike patted at himself helplessly, cursing. He'd left his duster behind, with its many pockets and useful detritus, and now he didn't even have a rag he could use to bandage Dawn. His own shirt was a total loss, shredded in the fighting, wet with gore, and he stared at Buffy as she smoothed back Dawn's hair - wiped the tears off her sister's cheeks with shaking, bloodied hands.

"I - I know what to do, Spike. Dawn - listen to me -" Buffy leaned close, whispering, and Spike caught some of what she was saying, even though there was a peculiar roaring in his ears. He was feeling a bit - cold - and he hugged himself, wincing, willing Xander and Oz to get up to the top.

 _*Spike - you all right?*_ Xander, somewhere below, running up towards him, and Spike could feel the frantic pound of his heart - the pain in his legs and side as he pushed himself faster. Prickles of pain over his body, where he'd been hurt. The same for Oz, who was bounding upwards a minute below Xander, growling, still mostly the wolf.

_*All right. Tired. The portal's….*_

"Buffy - _no!_ " Spike's head jerked up at Dawn's cry of agonized denial, and he saw her hanging onto Buffy's arms, crying again or _still_ crying, still bleeding.

"Dawn - the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be _brave_ , Dawnie. Live." Buffy was crying too, but smiling, and Spike just looked at her - looked over at the portal which had stretched wider, lightning arcing out from it and slamming to the ground somewhere. Something - winged - soared out and darted away, and Spike took a staggering step towards the girls.

"Slayer - we've got to _go_ -"

"Spike - listen to me. You'll take care of Dawn still, right? You'll protect her no matter what?" Spike squinted at Buffy - realized with a sudden twist of fear that the light from the portal was _there_ but that the light _there_ , on Buffy's face was the sun, glowing through the haze of early-morning clouds. Coming _up_ , and he had no shelter in sight.

_*Fucking idiot.*_

"Spike! You'll keep her safe - promise me you'll keep her safe!" Buffy had grabbed his shoulder - was shaking him - and Spike reached out and took her arm.

"Yeah, I'll - I'll do it, Slayer. I'll keep her safe as houses." Buffy's face twisted in anguish - cleared as she lifted her gory hand from Dawn's belly - shoved it in Spike's face suddenly, smearing the blood over his lips. Spike licked them automatically, not even thinking about it. And gasped as Dawn's blood shot through him like acid and fire - like arsenic sugar. He recoiled, shocked, and Buffy grabbed his shoulder again, painfully hard.

"She's part of you now, Spike - right? Part of - of your family, your _pack_." Buffy's voice was so calm - so serene - and Spike could only nod at her, dazed. Dawn's blood worked through him, and he felt a surge of energy, strong as life. It made him dizzy - made his vision go black at the edges.

"You'll take care of her," Buffy insisted, and Spike reached out and gently pushed back a strand of Buffy's hair - caressed her cheek for one moment with his thumb.

"'Til the end of the world, Buffy. I promise you."

Tears shimmered in Buffy's eyes for a moment, and then she blinked and turned to Dawn - kissed her and smiled into her eyes. "Live for me, Dawn. I will _always_ love you." Dawn clutched at her sister, her lips whispering _no, no, no_ , over and over. Dimly, Spike could hear Xander and the wolf somewhere just below - nearly there. He could feel the sun coming stronger through the clouds, a prickle of fire over his skin. He watched, with a peculiar sensation of something tearing right through him, as Buffy turned and ran and _leaped_ , falling into the portal with the light of the sun gilding her hair - the light of the portal haloing her in white-blue sparks.

 _"An angel, falling like a star from heaven.... Don't be sorry for that angel...."_ Dru's words came back to him, as Buffy fell - echoed in his head and he knew Xander and Oz heard the echo - knew they _saw_ , finally, and their agonized denial pounded through him. He lifted his face to the sky and roared - dirge of rage and pain, for his family, for Dawn - for his dearest enemy. He felt his legs give out, and he fell painfully to the grating underfoot. Dawn collapsed beside him, and he gathered her in close, shaking, barely noticing Xander and Oz arriving at the platform's edge. A blanket was thrown around him, muffling him from the sun, from the last scattering of silvery sparks as the portal winked out of existence.

And Buffy kept falling. Spike made sure Dawn didn't see - made sure Xander and Oz focused on _him_ for that one moment by trying to stand and having them both grab at him - help him up. Xander's face was wet with tears, streaked with blood. Oz was shivering from the pain of his own wounds and abruptly went to the wolf, lifting his muzzle and letting out loss and grief in a low, moaning howl. In the utter silence of the moment - of the dawn - he _heard_ her body hit, somewhere below. He pulled Dawn in closer - lifted his eyes to Xander's.

_*Oh my love, my own....*_

"C'mon, Dawn - let's go home, all right? Let's go home."

 

_"Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars and say: 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'  
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot, but he'll remember...._

_We few, we happy few, we band of brothers....  
For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother...."_

 

 

_________________  
Shakespeare - _Henry V, Act IV, Scene III_


End file.
